Alone

I drove down that road again last night,
right past the turn I know so well.
I stayed in the far opposite lane,
lest I forget and turn down it anyway.
I thought of all the days and nights spent down that bend,
the memories that collect around that part of town.

I thought of you, how you were just returning home.
Another week, another game,
another set of people you wish to see more.

I thought of what was waiting at home for me.
(A cold, dark apartment. Lonelier still with night upon it.)

I could have turned down that road,
forced myself into your life again.

But it didn't seem worth it last night.

I turned you down for the unwavering glow of my laptop,
the unflinching devotion of my cats,
and the security of knowing one thing:

I know who I'm waking up next to when I sleep alone.