Outside, Inside

I stare at the window blankly,
Wondering what I said wrong this time,
Questioning  myself if how I said things was the right way?
Repeating over and over the scenario,
Picking it to pieces,
Play by play,
Did I really deserve that?
You walking out?
No Goodbye?
No explanation?
Just Anger,
And stubbornness.
Is what I said so very wrong?
My phone is silent.
I expect nothing,
As always, the silence is deafening,
As ever, just as hurtful.
It'll be a terse 'Goodnight xx'
And then a cheerful 'Morning xx'
As if nothing had passed between us at all.
Another day,
With a clean, blank sheet,
Just as the day before.
But that's tomorrow,
For now the night is painful and black,
And just like the sky outside,
Cloudy and full of discontent,
Oh where will it end?

Goodnight x