by T. Rudacille
***
I showered quickly, watching with no concern at all as the blood swirled in the water and disappeared down the drain. Carefully, I rubbed myself down in the ointments the doctor had given me, and then, the exhaustion caused by the most eventful night left me with no choice but to face my empty bedroom.
I laid with my back to his side of the bed, but I did not sleep, despite that exhaustion. I did not reach over longingly and touch the empty space in which his body usually laid. I did not turn over to bury my face in his pillow and breathe in his scent. All of that was far too dramatic and clichéd. Instead, I just stayed fixed to my side of the bed as though frozen in place. My eyes barely blinked. No tears fell. I breathed softly, thinking a hundred million thoughts within half-seconds, feeling so overwhelmed by the chaos in my head and heart that I begged for God or the Gods to swiftly send me plummeting into sleep, just so all would shut off. But then, I would have to contend with the nightmares I could not get to stop, and now, James was not beside me. He could not comfort me after he gently woke me, for he was not there at all.
For the first time ever on Pangaea, I slept alone.