It was easy to leave. To toss the few belongings he had into his old sturdy and trusted suitcase and phone the local cab company. Having the number programmed to his little TracFone already made it that much easier. After all, he was "The wanderer". At least he sure felt a strong resonating connection to Dion DiMucci's hit from the early days of his youth.
The tune starts with that familiar ol' tempo in his mind, the unmistakeable smirk in Dion's voice came through his lyrics, "when they ask which one I like best, then I rip open my shirt with a Rosie on my chest! I'm the wanderer...." grinning to himself, he hums a few more bars.
Then he is suddenly transported back in time as he closes his eyes. Back with her. It was their time, him and Rose. And boy did they have good times too! Their favorite album playing in his ears, he can see Rose dancing there in their old living room.
She had a cigarette in one hand, a beer in the other, with a smile only she could smile- with her rosy cheeked face that he could still not erase from his memories. He soaked up the scene, with all of his senses- then snap.
He came back to the present moment, opening his eyes. Feeling the cool handle of his suitcase, heavy with the weight of it's contents in one hand and his coat draped over his other arm.
He stood there for a moment. Long enough to quietly contemplate his heart's desire to just stay put. But his instinct for survival and the routine of self preservation was always stronger.
He also believed in some ways that he was saving them from potential harm as collateral damage that he'd likely cause. Figuratively and literally. This want for not directly harming the only two humans he had left and loved- nudged his knee to bend and move him into motion. One foot in front of the other.
His thoughts of staying with her, Rose, and their daughter was fading. Garbled like the last stretch of tape from a cassette playing through. He threw that tape out.
Rose wasn't going to understand, and for the life of him, he wasn't going to understand her either. Something tugged his peripheral vision. Nagging ever so slightly to go before the bright yellow taxi cab that had just pulled up drove away without him in it.
He looked up toward the top of the short pathway before him outside the door then he looked over to the dining room. Where Daisy had built her sleeping nook on the side of the computer desk- he had once teased her about being a bunny in a nest...like Peter rabbit in stories he read to her when she was a baby.
All of a sudden Daisy began to stir, snapping his focus back. He jumped, just enough to see he'd been started.
He turned toward the sliding glass door and took his final steps out before she could see him. If she were to wake up and see him, what a terrible feeling he'd have- be expected to experience anyhow. Maybe there'd be a little shame, he wasnt sure.
He did know that he avoided those kind of moments at all costs. He was playing the role of a coward just like he had every other time he disappeared into the early morning hours throughout his daughters childhood.
She was grown now, starting a family again of her own. She was doing very well in her college studies, he had watched her dedication and could never tell her, he was proud.
"Oh she will be fine; just fine without me" he assured himself.
His daughter wanted more from him than he had to give. Why couldn't being there just be good enough for the girl? "Doesn't matter now" he muttered out loud under his breath as he climbed into the backseat of the cab. He looked straight ahead into the black abyss of the moment shifting into a neat little dot in the back of his memory- Sonny never looked back.

If he had- he would have seen Daisy standing there just like when she was a little girl, crying in her pajamas as she watched her daddy disappear into the sunrising without a word.

She never saw or heard from him again.


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