Inseparable

"Where are you going?" 

He ignores my pleas, heading purposefully down the hall, cable line bouncing behind him down the steps. I stagger after, clutching a blanket around my frozen frame, finding that flannel pajamas is no match for such frigid temperatures. 

The darkness conceals his exit, but I rush as fast as I can, painfully stubbing thoroughly numb toes. 

"Wait!" I weep. 

Slam. He's left me.

Sniffling, I shuffle into the unlit kitchen and rummage for a candle. By the dim flame, I morosely pull out the bin from the pantry containing Kit-Kats, and get to work.  

Being single, I have had my share of dating disappointments. While current culture would have me emotionally binge after every letdown, I have managed not to. 

It was only by Sandy, when the power abandoned me, that I realized what I truly hold dear. 

Not light. Not heat. Not hot water. 

Television. 

When basic cable strode out the door, I went to pieces. 

After toying with me for nearly two weeks, he has finally come back, quietly clicking on, as though hoping I wouldn't make a big deal of his return. 

I decided to accept this belated apology, and we do not speak of his betrayal.

I only sigh with relief and joy, stroking the remote, and settling down to a Law & Order that I have seen at least four times.