I am running away

May be he had always been right. She did love torturing him, watching him bite his lip and not retort as she said the unkindest things she could think of. He never was unkind, come to think of it, only exceedingly careless with her feelings. Or may be she was confused again. She looked over her bag one last time. Walked around the house turning off the lights one by one. Stood in the dark contemplating her life, the many laughs she'd shared with him in the house, the many little tragedies that had bruised her heart. She switched off her phone. If she heard his voice now, she knew she would change her mind.