When she first left, as I came awake in the morning my first thought would be to roll over and cuddle against her warmth. I had been doing that for 9 years. And then the realization would come pouring over me: she was gone. The ache at that moment was often overwhelming. And I would lie in my bed and try to clear my mind of the painful thoughts. Desperately, I would try to fall back asleep. I would wonder when it would end, this searing morning misery.
Gradually, it stopped happening. Time passed. I took care of my son. I developed new routines. I took trips to new places and woke in unfamiliar settings. The cycle was broken.
It's been nearly eight months now but sometimes I have a dream about her. This morning I dreamt that I was sweeping the floor in the kitchen, waiting for her to come home. When she came in the door, I said, "hello" but I could tell that something was wrong. She hung up her coat and turned to look at me. In my dream, I knew that she was about to tell me that she was leaving.
I came awake at that moment and my first thought was, "oh, that was a dream." Meaning that it wasn't real. But then the stillness in the bed next to me reminded me that it wasn't a dream. One day she didn't come home. She has gone. It is real.
Memo to my subconscious: I get it. I understand. Please send the pain away.
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