This Far Down the Line

A woman deals with abandonment issues

June looked out the window, her whiskey glass almost empty. The Eagles played in the background.

Oh my God, you can't believe
It's happening again...

A sob escaped her that was half anger half anguish.

"I will not go to him! I will not!" she screamed at the offending record. The record stopped, and a new one dropped as she tossed back the rest of her whiskey and let out a growl of rage.

...In the long run...

"BULLSHIT! THERE'S NO SUCH THING, IS THERE?!"

This time, she ripped the record off the turntable and smashed it over her knee, threw the shards at her feet, and wept the tears the whiskey couldn't hold back. Her knees buckled, and she sat heavily on the floor. She sat there staring at the books on the wall, neither knowing nor caring if she was sobbing or even that there was a world out there beyond her hurt.

Her head began to pound from the crying. She stood up. Her usual confident posture was weighted down, tired, defeated. She went to the kitchen and popped a couple aspirin. He had taught her that aspirin did the same thing as ibuprofen or acetaminophen and was half as harmful. He had taught her a lot of things.

And then he had left her. Just like that. Not even a goodbye.

She'd said she would be damned if she would go back to him... but last night, something had snapped inside her. She needed an answer.

She put on her coat and drove to his new place. She wanted to demand answers, show him exactly what he had done to her!

But she knew she wouldn't get answers.

She realized, as she drove through the cemetery gates, she just needed to say goodbye one more time.

NOTES: ▶︎

Word Count: 300
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the phrase "It's happening again"

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