Parting is such sweet sorrow


1. Chapter one

It was just another day. The sky was dark, grey and gloomy. It seems like it is always this way. Everything around me seems angry. The wind was furiously rustling the leaves on the trees. The trees were trying to fight off the ghastly winds. I don’t think I will ever see the sun again. It hasn’t appeared for over 30 days. My house is my only best friend. It is there for me when no one else is. It keeps me warm and comforts me. It is my safe place. The oak fireplace keeps me warm on a cold winter’s day. My fluffy pillows hold me tight even when no one else does. My television knows how to hold a long conversation. Most days I am in my bed. My king sized bed; meant for two people. Two people. A man and a woman. A husband and a wife. I can’t sleep at night without thinking about him… I toss and I turn, hoping that one night I may turn onto him. His scent, how I long to smell him again. That mixture of aftershave, beer and a good old fry up.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I am living proof of that. My heart bleeds every day I am not with him. I Today I was supposed to go out with my friends. But there is no point in me going. I just alienate myself from the group. I am a lingering scent that will not go away. I just want him. No one else but him. I am so lonely. I have nobody. I am all on my own. I’m not myself anymore. I used to be this outgoing person; couldn’t resist a laugh. The things I used to get up to... But now I don’t do anything. Sometimes I think I’m just a thousand or maybe a million miles away. My thoughts are always elsewhere. My thoughts are with him. He is the personification of what women want. When I go out, women have the case of the green eyed monster. It makes me laugh; women can get ever so feisty! He has dark blue eyes which sparkle like stars, long brown locks and the body of a Greek god. All I want is to see him again. To touch him, to smell him and to have his arms wrapped around my body. I can’t wait for that day to come.

That’s if he does come back.

I come in from a long tiring day and I just feel betrayed. How could he do this to me? How could he leave me by myself? He shouldn’t have gone. He could get hurt. Badly hurt. Then I will never see him again. I will be alone again. I can’t be alone. I need him. I don’t want anyone else but him. My friends come around trying to act like they care. They don’t care. I don’t want their sympathy. They come and visit me like I’m a freak show! I’m a twenty-three year old woman with an ancient face. This is what he has turned me into. My confidence has gone out the window. I dress in clothes that are made for a fat, old man.


Our love was supposed to be everlasting.

How can this happen when I don’t know whether he will come back in a body bag or in my arms? I look at the window and the postman is walking down the path. The postman looks worried, like he is holding something in. He places his foot heavily on my door mat and his heavy hand rings the gold door bell. May be he has letter from my husband. I rush to the door in excitement. I open the door slowly trying to mask my happiness. He hands me a black letter. I look at him puzzled; he says sorry and he quickly walks away. I rip up the letter a start to read it. Tears start to run down my face…


Could this be true?




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