He didn’t leave.

Not that day, not that week.

He didn’t even pack.

I wasn’t even sure where the suitcases were.

Are they in the basement or  in storage with the summer clothes? Should I offer him one of mine? How does this work?

He was calmly going about his days as if nothing had happened.

And I was slowly going crazy.

I looked up the definition of separation in my computer’s dictionary just to see if somehow Webster had been brought back to life and had decreed that the word actually deemed a new meaning. Maybe there had been a moratorium on the subject and I missed out. Which is why I hadn’t been informed of the fact that the meaning of separation in the english language had now been rescinded, and the new meaning actually was synonymous with change-nothing-in-fact-feign-amnesia-and-act-as-if-nothing-is-wrong-and-maybe-she-won’t-notice.

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