I, Immortal

"I, Immortal" is a story about a woman who discovers immortality. Unfortunately, upon discovering it, she realizes that she may have made a mistake. Is life really supposed to be lived eternally? She spends the rest of her life attempting to answer that question for herself.

The drive home was long. Much longer than usual. People on the sidewalks watched my powder blue 1990 Ford Focus linger down the road as my back bumper trailed across the pavement after it. I could hear their silent rumblings. If she’s so great, why is she driving that ugly thing? She’s not that great. What did she really do anyway? I could’ve done that. I sighed. This sure was a long drive home.
When I pulled into my driveway, I noticed my husband’s car parked outside. I sat in my car contemplating my next step. He never parked his car outside the garage. Not his precious ‘72 Thunderbird. There was something thick about the air too. It rested on my skin like a heavy winter coat in the summer. Something was about to happen. However, with everything that had transpired in my life over the past four months, this made me slightly indifferent.
I stepped out of my car and jingled my house keys as I walked toward the front door. I swallowed the extra lump in my throat as I stuck the key into the hole. Before I had the chance to turn my wrist, the door flew open and there he stood. I would’ve thrown my arms around his neck if it weren’t for the two suitcases in his hands. I looked down at them then up into his swollen eyes. I stepped back and took a deep breath.
“I have to go,” he whispered.
I stared at his suitcases attempting to organize my thoughts.
He continued, “This is all a bit too much for me and I feel it’s best if I just go.”
“Wait,” I said, “Are you talking about leaving me?”
He sucked in his lips and sighed. His eyes said sorry but the way he gripped his luggage told an entirely different story. I should’ve known this was coming. I should’ve known his late nights meant more time spent away from me. He wasn’t trying to make more money to provide for us; he was setting up a getaway fund. My success had emasculated him and he was through playing second fiddle. When he threatened to leave the night at the Christmas party, I should’ve taken heed. Nevertheless, he stood here holding his belongings prepared to find what he surely couldn’t locate within us.