Threadbare.

I saw his car last night.
The number plate looked familiar. Community Services Parking Permit? check. Crap all over the back seat? check.

I have not seen him in almost three months. Three months! Maybe he has cut all his hair off. Lost weight. Got a tattoo in a really obvious place. You see, i wouldn't know any of these things. He is my husband but i wouldn't know any of these things. My husband.
I know that he sleeps on his back and gets a sore neck in the mornings. I know that he thinks it's kinda funny when people accidently trip over. I know that he once tripped over on purpose in the middle of a busy city street, just to make me laugh.
But what i don't know.....Does he still cry sometimes about his mum? Does he visit the tree where we threw her ashes that day? Does he wonder where it all went wrong? Does he miss me? Does he even remember me? Is he counting down the days until our marriage is simply a mistake from the past? Until he can sign his name and wash his hands?
With each month that passes, the tiny threads are unravelling and fracturing. He dates another woman. Twang. I get a new boyfriend. Snap. I see his car in the parking lot and feel dread rather than excitement. Crack. Sometimes i cut the threads on purpose; Like when i heard that he never speaks at work anymore. It's not your job to make sure he is okay. You cannot keep doing this to yourself. Snip. And what about that first week in March this year? It is going to be hell on Earth for him. Our 3rd wedding anniversary, the second anniversary of his mums suicide, our divorce. Jesus, I cannot face his pain when my own is so overwhelming. The pull is too great. Those threads don't stand a chance.

I wonder if we'll notice when the last one breaks. Or if I will simply wake one morning, and find him, like all those wishes we threw up to the stars, gone.