I sat in that diner for several hours before realizing that Donny wasn’t coming back. I should have followed after him. I don’t know why I didn’t. Perhaps I thought he’d be back, or maybe subconsciously, I wanted him to go.

I walked home in rain, hoping that I’d find Donny somewhere in the shadows. Once I reached the apartment complex, I knew that I wouldn’t see him again that night. This wasn’t the first time Donny has done this. I guess I just push him over the edge sometimes. I feel like I’m messing up this relationship at times, and I don’t know what I can do to fix it. Sometimes I feel like I’m just not worthy of Donny. Maybe someday I’ll really be good enough for him, but until then, I’ll just have to work on improving myself.

I didn’t get any sleep that night. I guess I was waiting up for Donny, but he never showed up. I wrote in my diary “I think I really upset Donny this time. He ran out during dinner. I hope he comes home soon. I’m really starting to get worried.” I heard a police siren in the distance. I wondered where Donny was at that exact moment. 

It’s been three months. Donny still hasn’t come home. I’ve found myself reading the newspapers daily. The obituaries and the police reports mainly. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. I look for him every time I’m walking down the street. I glance down every alleyway I pass. But he’s never there. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since he disappeared. I fall asleep wondering where it all went wrong. If only I would have been more supportive and hadn’t been so controlling. But I’m beginning to realize that, if he wanted to make it work, he should have made more of an effort on his part. But still, he was damaged. He needed someone to help him along, and I should have been there for him more than I was. I feel as though I’m on a carousel that can’t be stopped.