I look across at the empty cup on the kitchen counter. Little droplets of coffee still cling on to the rim like lovers unwilling to part. His lips have left their mark on the mug. I press it against mine and hope to steal just one more kiss before getting back to reality. My empty room smells of him… musky and strong. I inhale deeply before sinking my face into the pillow that still holds the shape of his head. No matter how much I wrap the sheets tight around my body, they can’t seem to match the warmth of his embrace.
The phone rings and his voice coos in my ear, smooth and velvety like dark chocolate. He says it’s just a matter of a few days and soon he’ll be back right where he belongs. By my side. Yeah right. Try explaining that to my heart that feels like it’s on the verge of breaking if it doesn’t see your smiling face right now…I wish I could get into hibernate mode and sleep the time away till he’s back. But it’s complicated and I need to get up to sort it out. Unfortunately.
His absence is a constant reminder in my present. Like the throb of an amputated leg. Or a damaged nerve hampering every move I make. Every action seems like it’s missing some dimension since there is no one to measure it against. And I know that if I had to live on without him, I could never do it.
I’ve been reading The Time Traveler’s Wife AND hubby dear has gone on a business trip. So obviously, I am so deeply immersed in the sad tale and I can identify with it completely right now. Waiting seems to be the toughest thing to do.