She swung her feet to the chilled wood floor and took a quick glance behind her. “It’s cold on that side.” She tries not to touch it, even when her body overheats and she needs the cool of the unoccupied sheets on the far side of the bed.
These days she thought of him often. His body sprawled out on the bed, computer screen lighting his discerned face .”He always worked in the bedroom.”
The mornings of him reaching for her. She took them for granted; the future held many mornings in her mind.
She made her way to the bathroom. Taking showers; his fingers in her hair full of shampoo, running the hot water cold.
Making breakfast with the passing thought of how much he loved her eggs.
She’d like to believe thoughts of him get smaller by the day; they never do.
Trying to avoid uprooted thoughts as she navigates through the morning, her home felt like a mine field at times; eyes exploding memory fragments everywhere she looked.
These small thoughts didn’t take away the feeling of regret or the smiles of those days.
Hopefully they stay for a while.
Longer than he.