Losing him

Her heart was beating so fast she felt as if her breathing couldn't keep up. Life was running away from her and she couldn't follow. He had promised her forever. Naive as it may sound, she believed it. Like the fool everyone had told her she would turn out to be, she believed it. Or had believed it. He was gone. All the years of careful preparation and training had all been in vain. She would not be a bride. She would never feel the tender touch of the man she loved. Her friends told her to move on. She was better off without him. Now, they said, you can be you . . . without him. No, she had cried within herself. He was her. She was him.

He had left without a goodbye. No kiss. No last hug. No written note to ease her pain. Nothing. Just the echoing silence, deafening in her tiny studio apartment. The sun held no joy; its rays not enough to penetrate the dark abyss she had burrowed herself in. She ate. She slept. She woke. Everything went on as if her whole world had never been shattered into a billion pieces, stabbing into her like tiny glass shards. Her friends didn't understand. No one could understand. He had been the one. She had had no doubt about it. So, why was he gone?

She became a modern-day hermit, venturing out only when necessary. Her job called to let her know she wouldn't be needing to come in to work anymore. Her answering machine saved the message for her. She lay on her bed. She thought of him. Where had he gone? Why hadn't he taken her with him? Days turned into nights. Nights turned into days. All around her the world moved on in its natural course. For her, time stood still.