I can’t sleep. The thought of you haunts me. Sounds horrible and ghosty but I am not very inspired. Must be the lack of sleep.
Truth is, I haven’t slept well since you left. You didn’t want to leave, but that didn’t change reality. I twist and turn every night, unable to relax and fade into dreams. My eyes are wide open as is my mind, flooded with memories of you. There is also something really uncomfortable about a wet pillow.
Home has always been where you were. Now it’s just a 7th floor apartment with a terrace where you will no longer sunbathe on the fake grass I had installed for you. It feels empty. No room for anything other than my grief and the hole brought up by your absence.
I cry out in anger and frustration and leave the bed, really pissed off that this is my new life. To the kitchen bar it is! Provider of best friends since this started! My friend for tonight is bourbon. Turns out a bottle understands me more these days than I ever thought possible. Probably because it doesn’t talk. Probably because it’s an it.
After my third glass I decide to take the bottle for a spin. It deserves it, after all. The view from this city – our city – my city has always been a privilege to contemplate from the terrace – our terrace – my terrace.
“You see?” I tell Colonel Taylor, drinking from it, “I told you the view is beautiful this time of night.”
No reply. This is the reason why we are friends. It doesn’t point out the obvious.
It also makes me think again of the lyrics of that Belgian band: silence never seemed so loud. My ears have been ringing since… well.
“Are you talking to the city again?” I can hear you tell me. I feel your arms around me, your warmth embracing me. Your smell captivating me, your body against mine. Pinning me against the railing like you always did. Delicately, never hurting me. But strongly, never letting go. I always felt safe with you. Nothing would be able to get to me.
“You know it listens better when three quarters of it are asleep” I reply. “Are you really here, my love?”
Silence. And it has never been so loud.
I turn around and see the empty apartment – our home – my apartment. I let go of the bottle and the railing, but not of you.
I jump.