Saying goodbye

It's always hard saying goodbye.
Especially when you are not ready to let go.
For the past few weeks, it's just been me hanging on,
hoping that this wasn't the end.
Despite begging, pleading, and praying
You left.
One day you were there,
and the next, you had disappeared.

Did you ask me?
Did you consider my feelings?

No, you just up and turned your back on me.
And appear to be gone

I miss you.
Please please please
come back.

I can't take it anymore.
I need you so that I can actually get work done around the house on the weekends.
Or just so I can lay on the couch and read my kindle.
No, really I mean laundry and housework.

Now this is all I have left:
Why yes, they moved her bed to the middle of the room.

Every book they own.
Some sort of escape mission?
I'm left with this mess.
And two crying, whining, overly-tired 3 year olds from 6 a.m. to 7 p.m.

Honestly, they only cry and whine from 1 p.m. to 7 p.m.
But it still feels like 13 hours, not 6.

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