I was barely awake this morning.
It was that kind of sleep-state where your eyes are still closed and your body is still filled with dead weight, but your mind is conscious enough to recognize who you are, where you are, what day it is, etc. You know the basic thoughts that remind you who you are just by reinstating your existence in this universe.

But this morning I didn't remember what day it was.

First, I reached across my big bed with my finger tips actively searching for your body.

I rolled over to your side of the bed, waiting for your big strong arms to wrap around me and pull me closer.

I longed to get my first forehead kiss of the day before happily letting my unconscious mind take over my brain once more.

I was looking for you because my last couple hours of sleep every morning are so much more peaceful when they are spent connected skin to skin in the most harmless and purest way possible.

However, this morning my finger tips grasped the edge of my bed where you normally lay and that is when everything truly snapped back into focus.

My eyes jolted open. Scanning the room for any remains of you. Even if it was just the smallest reminder that you were still here somehow in some way. Or even that you would eventually be back to pick up all the broken pieces.

My breath became shallow, like my own lunges were betraying me and blaming me for the sudden emptiness of my queen sized bed.

My head instantly started pounding because the silence in my room, that you left when you slammed the door, was deafening.

My nose could only smell your scent. It was on my pillows and soaked into my favourite bed-sheets. It didn't matter what way I turned. I laid there completely vulnerable on the top of my sheets and let the cold winter air, that blew in from my window, freeze every limb in on my body.
I changed pillows.
Threw pillows.
Was left sitting in the middle of my naked mattress and still the only thing I could smell was your lingering cologne, all well staring at a pile of linens that held your ghost better than a grave yard holds memories.

I literally ran out of my bedroom. Leaving behind me all of our pictures, all of our most scandalous memories, all of your lingering scent, and most importantly, all of the damn emptiness.

I found myself in the shower. Crying as my crumbled body folding tightly into the corner. Too exhausted to hold myself up, but still allowing the hot water to cleanse my body in the only way I knew how.

 And then, after all of that, I remembered today's date. And as I towel dried my hair, and threw all of my bedding in the wash, I thought about how much I would have preferred to only ever have given myself the option to remember dates in the morning instead of heart-breaks. 

Published by Alana Pickrell