My Moment Of Weakness
I have been crushed. Flattened, broken, shattered. Emotionally crippled. By someone who loves me? I want to need to move on. But the pain is stifling, debilitating. The constant churning in my stomach refuses to go away. I have hit a weight I haven’t seen since before the freshman fifteen knocked on my door. Negativity, pessimism and plain old sadness have taken over my every waking thought. I am numb to feelings of happiness. I lie awake in a strange room asking why. Over and over again. Knowing that no answer will suffice. He is lying in the comfort of our his home. I imagine his face: eyes closed, lips pursed, slow and steady breaths, fast asleep [in our bed]. That which once was my comfort, my rock is so far away. Physically and emotionally. He has moved on without me. No matter how hard I try, I will never catch him. Never again.
I let the water wash over me. As it slid down my face it hid my tears. They fell in droves. Unheard and unforgiving. No candle is lit outside the door on this cold morning. That is just a memory. But I can still smell its sweetness, pink lemonade. I wrap myself up, trying to keep warm. I’m not sure whether the shivering is from the rush of cold air or the reality of everything, my nerves. I crawl under the covers, lay my head down and remember. Remember what it was like to turn my head and see his lying beside it. Running my fingers through the dark spikes, rousing him awake. Kissing his tattooed shoulders, thankful that he’s mine. Getting those few extra hours of sleep on Sunday mornings hoping the dogs can hold it for just a little while longer.
But I get up. Leaving evidence of my moment of weakness on the now damp pillow. Pink. The one that was “mine”. Will someone else rest their head there someday? Knowing the answer I leave the room. Muddling through the rest of my morning in a haze. Arriving at work safe and sound, but wondering how I got there. Will he remember me always? Will it be a fond memory? I can only hope.
