She sat in the corner, listening to the deafening sound of silence, the room cold and dark, but for the faint amber glow of the accent lamp that illuminated the edge of her desk. She looked at the untouched plate of food and her stomach recoiled at the sight. She needed to get rid of it, the smell that she hadn’t noticed until it visually invaded her space, suddenly making her nauseous; but she was too numb to even think, much less get up and take it to the kitchen. She managed enough motion to touch the edge of the plate with her fingertip, and slowly push it away, until it tipped then disappeared over the side of the desk into the waiting wastebasket below.
She didn’t understand how she could feel so much pain, when it was emptiness that filled her now; how it could be that she found herself living for a dream that at moments such as this seemed absolutely hopeless; on her knees, futilely begging him to see, that he’s everything she ever wanted and all that she needs. Wondering if it was as easy as it seemed, for him to walk away and leave her there; lost and alone, spiraling out of control in a grief-stricken meltdown of epic proportion; her fragile strength slipping away completely when he told her, quite simply, No.
There was no stopping the flow of tears or gut-wrenching sobs, as images flashed from an internal reel, and the one she kept coming to over and over, was the sweet sadness that filled his eyes; sadness that revealed the depth of his own anguish and pain, over what had transpired and become their situation.
She saw herself reach out and gently touch his face, telling him she loved him, kissing his sweet lips, feeling for the first time that she alone, was enough; and she wished in that moment she could have left this plane of agonizing existence, wrapped in the warmth of his sheltering embrace, having closed her eyes and simply drowned in his love.
©2011 Jill Terry