I pack up as fast as I can, then pick up Bubba. But as I walk past his desk, something prevents me from moving. I stand there, contemplating if I’m doing the right thing or not. Finally, I decide that no matter what, I can’t make him worry about me.
I don’t even want to imagine how he’d react if he came back to an empty office without knowing what happened to me. So, I put my things and my cat down for a moment, then walk to the desk to grab an empty piece of paper.
Cyrus,
I’ll make things easier for you. I’m going back to my room. You don’t have to protect me anymore, I’ll manage. This isn’t working out for either of us. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that it came to this. But I’m not sorry for what I feel.
Please, don’t come looking for me and try to convince me to come back, because
