The stars look very different today

I escaped to Florence and have been hiding here for fourteen days like a deserter. I went to the airport without packing while he was out buying us breakfast, turned off my phone and got on a plane to see S for New Year's. I haven't checked my Facebook or e-mails since, afraid of what he might have written (or not written).

His absence is physical more than anything, I made space for other memories to form while I'm away, yet I can't stop myself from wondering what he will do to me eventually. Will I even see him again, if I ever go back to Paris? Will he spend months tracking me down, just so he can hurt me the way I deserve to be hurt?

I thought that leaving him like this would make me feel something but it doesn't, not even the fear excites me, not just yet. Maybe if I see him again I'll know, I want to see him again, I need to see him. I need to see him again. I do.