“People need to be needed.” She said.
I looked up and watched her take another handful of clothes from the solitary dresser in what used to be our bedroom. She put them into her bag and went back for another handful.
I suppose my silence equaled assent. I agreed with her. People do need to be needed—but there wasn’t anything that I had to say or do. After all, she was the one that was ending this. She was the one that was leaving me for someone else. Her monologue was falling on deaf ears.
She needed to be needed. But not by me.