The engine to your car roared as you accelerated the speed, your things sat in the backseat of your car. Your face appeared red and puffy from all of the crying you did.

It wasn’t unusual that you and Rafe had gotten into some mean arguments. But this one? This one was irreversible. It happened. And it damaged not only you, but your relationship.

Four years. Gone.

And telling your best friend about it? She sent you some advice and you immediately took it, not even daring to ask any questions. Why? Because you knew it was the best thing you could do.

“I got a plan. Run away as fast as you can.”

And that’s exactly what you were doing at this moment. Rafe wasn’t aware. He wasn’t even home when you began packing your things and loading them into your car. Your dream car he bought you. Ironic.

Nothing was holding you back. All of your closest family and friends were in a different state. And that’s where you were headed.

Soon enough, you assumed Rafe had realized you were gone, because then you phone started blowing up.

Rafe is calling…

Rafe: Where are you? Rafe: Stop messing around Rafe: Why is all of your shit gone?

Rafe is calling…

Rafe: Baby I’m sorry Rafe: Please just come back home Rafe: Where are you going?

Rafe is calling…

Rafe: ANSWER ME

Stopping at a red light, you blocked his number and everything else you had him on. Instagram, Snapchat, anything you could think of.

You sniffled as the light turned green, signaling for you to start driving again. You missed him. The good times. The times where it was just you and him, isolated from the world. Where he’d look at you like you were the most beautiful and perfect being he’d come across.

Never in a million years did you think you’d be doing this right now, and yet here you were.

Running away.