After their last fight, he knew it meant the end, no matter what they say he couldn't take any more.
Once, a long time ago it was fun being together but there wasn't much left of those days long ago, not enough good to make wrong right.
The promise.
It was not that he forgot the promise he made but how could he have known it would end like this, he would drown in a smelly swamp?
He tried to remember her friendly face.
Nothing was left of what once was, they build together and he felt too young to give up on himself just because of her.
In silence, he packed his bag, folded his shirts neatly he only needed something for those first days.
Unwrapped.
He stared at the small package in his hand.
How long had it been there and how come it wasn't opened?
He sat on the bed, turned it around in his hands and tried to remember.
He must have hid it because of one of their fights.
Strange how easily you forget something so important that was once was worth fighting for and made him decide not to give this token of love.
"It makes a great gift to someone else, one day, it's a waste to leave it behind."
There was plenty of room left in the bag, some shirts, socks, six underpants, and candies.
"I need my wallet."
It wasn't on his side table which means he left it in his coat or on the kitchen table last night.
He better hurry before she awake, started screaming.
He grabbed his bag off the bed and looked around the room this was the last time in his entire life he would ever take a step in this room again.
It was filled with memories.
Someone else could take his place, who knows even fill those angry walls with laughter and happiness and make it a good place, a real home-sweet-home something he never managed.
He felt relieved, turned around walked out the door and closed it behind him
A friendly face captured in a wooden frame smiled at him as he entered the hallway on his way to the kitchen.
Don't forget to smile, he read on a paper written next to it.
Instantly he started smiling and reached for the doorknob to search for his wallet on his way out of this empty, miserable hell.
The kitchen table was set, there was cereals, fresh bread, hot coffee with milk and sugar and a note.
Enjoy your meal.
A good breakfast makes your day.
He drank his coffee, enjoyed his breakfast, saw the sunrise.
While cleaning the table and doing the dishes he hummed a long-forgotten song and felt so much better as he opened the living room's door.
There she was as if she was a ghost not saying a word as he came in searching for his wallet and read the message written on the wall.
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