Empty

Another story...
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The hardwood floors were cold and creaked with emptiness. A chilly draft blew around my ankles as I stood in his room. Only a bed remained. His books, his clothes, his desk were all gone. I looked to the window to see clouds looming low in the sky. So suitable.

Slowly, I walked towards the bed and curled upon it. I found myself retreating into a fetal position. I glanced around and realized that the room was actually quite big... now that there was nothing in it. I closed my eyes, imagining that nothing had changed. He was still with me. He was still in the living room, watching the Food Network. I wasn't really alone. He hadn't met a gorgeous woman named Julia... He hadn't taken her to dinner in my car... He hadn't gone up to her apartment... He hadn't fallen out of love with me.

It was just a nightmare and I would wake up soon. Just a very bad dream... I hadn't found pictures of them together on his laptop... I hadn't lied to him and said I wouldn't be home... I hadn't waited around for him.. and I hadn't yelled at him the second he walked in the door. Julia hadn't walked in after him or demanded to know who I was. She hadn't called him a bastard and pulled a gun from her purse. She hadn't screamed and pulled the trigger... He hadn't been struck with the bullet, and crumpled to the floor. He hadn't died at the doorway as her eyes welled with tears. Julia hadn't dropped the pistol in the growing pool of scarlet blood and whispered, "I'm sorry," before stumbling away in a daze.

Just a nightmare... a terrible nightmare. My eyes shot open, and my face was wet.... but I was still in his room, and it was still empty.