Days of empty

The title is subject to change. The meaning destin to stay the same. The outcome forever unyeliding, despite my best efforts. The story is sad. It is overwhelming, Heart wrenching, dramitac, at times funny. But over all it is mine. It is my story. A story of another time. Another place.


1. Misunderstanding? Mistake?

She wanted to say goodnight.
He meant to roll over and hold her.
But they both drifted off to sleep, so quickly. Never saying a word. 

Distance crept in the door of silence; creating an unbreachable space that paved the way to resentment. Night began to set in, as time unraveled and suddenly everything felt dark, even for night. 

When they woke something felt different. They didnt hug good morning. There were no kisses or warm greetings. They exited the bed on opposite sides as if touching one another were a forbidden sin, punishable by death. She paused only for a moment, taking a deep breath her lips began to part and briefly she considered reaching out for him. But when his glaze finally met hers Something new lurked in his eyes. And the very words she had rehearsed in her mind vanished. Stolen by the moment. 

He couldn't remember why he was angry. Or if he was angry for the sake of being angry. What he did know, was that the room felt smaller. The air had a staleness to it that he didn't remember being there before and for the first time in a long time, she felt miles away. He wanted to say he was sorry but paused when he saw her lips part as if she were going to speak. Only she said nothing and he watched her face go from loving to defensive and wounded before his very eyes. What he wanted more than anything was to hold her. He wanted to brush the hair from her eyes, and feel the softness of her skin. He wanted her to know she meant the world to him, that he was sry for all the ways that he had hurt her. But for whatever reason, deflated his nerve was lost. So instead he quickly looked away. Hoping to avoid the anger in her eyes. 

He turned from her so quickly that her pounding heart plummeted in her chest. The walls of her soul caving, each folding into the other. The weight of pain felt heavy in her chest. It seemed to grow, reaching all the way upward until she felt a burning sensation tickle at the back of her throat. Swallowing hard she tried to chase back the tears that threatened to bubble over. He couldn't even look at her. Why did she suddenly feel so unwanted by the same man that only a few nights ago made her feel so loved.  Almost as quickly as he had she turned from him, disappearing into the bathroom. No sooner did the door close then her strong body collapsed against the counter. Broken down she began to sob. 

He sat in the kitchen every so often gazing at the doorway. His toast and coffee lay untouched in front of him. Part of him had hoped that she would come bouncing through, like she had done so many mornings before, sleepy eyed and barely clothed to see him off to work. He imagined her flinging her arms around him like so often she would do and kissing his cheek. Daydreaming and Reluctant to leave he allowed the clock to tick beyond his normal exist time, until finally he had no other option but to go. Maybe things would be different this afternoon. 

She regained her composure, drying her eyes, and washing her face. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, pausing to study her reflection in the mirror. He had picked out the mirror when they remodeled the bathroom last summer. He said he had chosen green tile because it was her favorite color. It wasn't her favorite color, he had guessed it was years ago. She had started to correct him but decided not to when she saw how proud he was that he had remembered. Then pulled a newly purchased pair of ear rings out his pocket...emeralds. What would a little lie hurt she remembered thinking. So she let him believe it. Had she of known how many items he would purchase under the assumption she loved the color green in the years to come. She might have changed her mind. She might of even corrected him. But over time she had actually learned to like the color green. 
She emerged from the bathroom and started to head downstairs before deciding that maybe she should give him time to think. He would never leave without kissing her goodbye. He never had. 
Sitting on the edge of the bed she strained to listen to the floor below. She could almost make out the sound of his shoes on the kitchen tile. The rustle of breakfast dishes being tucked away to be washed. But the sound she could not mistake was The sound of the heavy front door closing, it echoed throughout the house so loudly that it seemed as if the life had been sucked out Prior to the doors closing. The very energy of the home escaping out into the neighborhood and on to better things. She questioned why he had not come up to say goodbye. He had never left without saying goodbye before. 

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