Indefinitely.
“Jin.” He breathes
“Hmm?”
“I think I love you.”
You sigh, turn to face him and say nothing.
He looks at you as if expecting an answer and then frowns, lifting himself off his, your bed.
“I have work.” He offers. “Breakfast is in the kitchen.”
“Right.” You nod, bury your face into the pillow and say nothing else. He is disappointed, you can tell, but as usual, he says nothing, frowns in the usual way he does and tries to continue to love you indefinitely. You are grateful.
You wait until you hear the door click shut before tossing yourself off the bed and padding off into the kitchen where you knew you were going to find the same mediocre breakfast that you’ve been eating for the past 4 years.
You wonder how to tell him. You wonder where you’re going to eat breakfast from now on. You wonder if it’s the right thing to do.
What were the right things to say?
Lately, your vocabulary has become monosyllabic.
You sit and wait owing to a lack of a better alternative, until you hear the door click once more. He’s come home; yours and his.
“Tadaima.”
“Okaeri.”
He frowns as he sees you in the same tattered t-shirt as he had left you in last night and this morning but chooses to say nothing, focusing instead on the strange look you’ve been giving him.
“What’s wrong?” Genuine concern, he is beginning to scare you.
“I-“ You will him to understand, you try with your eyes.
He sighs, an odd smile creeping onto that face, the face you’ve seen in every day you can remember.
“So.” He begins. “You’re going?” Not really a question but a statement. His eyes determined, his smile reassuring. You nod, not really sure what to say.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?” He sits down next to you, on the couch that you’ve been sitting on, waiting for him to come home every day for the past 4 years. He pushes your head into his shoulder and leans against it. You cry.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
He silences you, always the calmer one. You move closer to him, try to capture his steady comforting breaths. In out, in out, you breath along with him.
“Where ever you go, whatever you do.” He mutters, too soft to hear but you hear him anyway. “I’m just a thought away.” You cry harder, you have second thoughts, but he’s already decided for you anyway. He’s ready to watch you go. He’s willing to wait.
But you wonder if you’ll be able to live without this, without him.
“It’ll only be six months, I’ll be back.” You assure him, you assure yourself. He already knows that you can’t do without him.
“I know, I’ll miss you.” He sighs, snuggling into you and you know he needs you too and that he’s hurting.
“I love you.” You mean it. He knows you do.
And when you leave 2 weeks later, you still mean it and he still knows you do.
And 6 months later.
And forever.
Indefinitely.