It would have been on Tuesday that he left my house and told me he was alright, “I’m okay Buttercup, good night.” I felt loved, I had his t-shirt in my hamper and I couldn’t wait for him to be with me again, as usual.

Tonight, it’s Saturday, I still haven’t heard from him and my message ‘what’s up’ didn’t deliver to him either. I’ve been waiting for him to text to call or to tell me he’s on the way back over but I haven’t heard anything.

My phone started to ring at 1:05 AM, he always call me in the middle of the night so I didn’t think anything of it.

“Hi Baby!” I’m always so happy to hear from him, “what you doing? You need me?"

He was breathing on the other end of the line, I rolled my eyes — I knew he was drunk. Before I was about to say anything, anxiously he said, “Come get me."

I shook my head, another night of a random adventure, “Babe, I’ve been waiting on your call… where are you?"

“The hotel you came to, I need you, please.”

Him saying ‘I need you’ wasn’t quite like him. I’ve been with the man for five years, his pride will never admit to needing a woman, even if he does need a woman. I was a little thrown off by the line.

“Are you sure?” I cocked my head to the side, I know him better than I know myself.

“I SAID I FUCKING NEED YOU.” He was growling into the phone.

My stomach dropped, it wasn’t the call I was waiting for…