Don’t know why I’m leaving him this letter. Don’t know why I’m telling him where I’m going. Hell, I don’t know why I’ve done half the things I have the last two years. I inhale a deep breath. Then, like my hands have a mind of their own, they tuck the note into the mesh wire of the screen door. I let go of it like it’s on fire. Before I can chicken out. Before I knock on the door, throw myself into his arms, and tell him to talk me out of this.
