I checked the clock by the bedside, its light glowing, almost pulsating in the dark room – a reflection of my feelings before morning. It was 3:15. I couldn’t believe it’s just been 2 minutes since I last checked.
Instinctively, I reached my hand to the other side of the bed but it met nothing save the cold empty space beside me.
I miss her.
Nights like this are always the longest. Nights when I know that by sunrise I’ll see her again.
The days he left, I cried. Yes, actual tears fell.
Maddy was my sunshine, and with her radiant light, it was hard for the darkness in me to grow. I had known 7 years of happiness, and we had planned how our lives together would look like when we turned 70. It was the most beautiful dream I ever shared with anyone.
I caught myself reaching out my hand again. And when I rechecked the clock, thankfully, 5 minutes had passed. But I still had hours of darkness to go.
I finally picked up my phone and dialled a number. She answered on the second ring.
Hearing her breathe into the mic melted my heart. It was so soft, effortless and soothing.
I swallowed and whispered, “hi.”
But she just kept breathing.
“I just couldn’t wait till morning.”
She sighed then. “About that…”
Her voice was as soft as her breathing but her words cut right into my open heart. I knew what was coming before she said the words.
“I won’t be able to make it,” she said. “I think I need more time.”
I barely heard those words above the throbbing of blood in my ears.
“We both need time.”
I heard myself say, “I understand,” and slowly lowered the phone.
After what seemed like an eternity, the pounding in my ears subsided and when I put the phone back up, she was still there. I thought I heard her sniffle.
“I understand,” I said again, clearer now.
Then she hung up.
This time, the clock read 3:59 and I wished the darkness would go on forever. I wished the morning sunrise would stay forever away.
