I'm lay in bed, in our bed, in the spot that she used to lie in, because it still smells like her and that's as close as I can be to her now.
Tears tracks running down my cheeks as I grip on to the t-shirt she wore the last day I saw her, holding on to it as if I'm holding her because that's as close to her embrace as I'm going to get now. Letting the scent of her perfume fill my nostrils.
Six days, that's how long it's been since it happened, since she went. Six days doesn't seem that long, but it is when you lose the love of your life, when you lose the only person that has ever actually made you smile. Six days since my phone rang, and the doctor told me that she had hours to live, that they couldn't do anything for her because she'd done too much damage. A cocktail of drugs and alcohol they said.
The moment I got off the phone I sped to the hospital, I sat in a chair next to her bed, with her hand in mine and our fingers locked together while I watched the heart monitor, listening to the constant beeping that told me she was still alive, that she was still fighting.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
That's the only sound filling the room, that and the sound of the machines hooked up to her, keeping her alive before her heart totally gives up. I graze my thumb over the top of her hand before leaning down and pressing my lips against it as the tears drip off my face and on to the stiff hospital bed sheets.
"Keep fighting, please for me." I whisper, resting my head on the bed next to her body, while still keeping my hand in hers. I can't let her go, she doesn't get to leave me like this, and she can't leave me because without her I'm nothing.
I got taken out of the room before she died, they wouldn't let me stay with her, and they had to pull me away from her because I didn't want to leave her. I didn't want strange people touching her when she's mine. I just wanted her to fucking wake up, smile at me and then lean up before pressing her lips against mine.
Seven days since I heard her voice, since she smiled at me when she woke up with my arms wrapped around her waist. Seven days since I had her arms wrapped around me, taking in everything about her, from the way she would always smell like my shampoo but swears that she hasn't used it. The way her skin would always be soft and would feel like heaven when it grazed against mine.
It's been Seven days since we were laughing and messing around in the kitchen, while I attempted to make pancakes, failing and resorting to just making toast, but still somehow managing to burn it. She'd just look at me, rolling her eyes before pressing her lips against mine and then smiling against my lips.
"You're lucky I love you." She'd say, trailing her fingers up and down my arms, pulling away from me and then grabbing a slightly burnt slice of toast off her plate and then taking a bite.
"I love you more." I'd reply, stealing a kiss off her and then a bite of her toast, sticking my tongue out at her as she glared at me.
"If you say so."
I'd just roll my eyes at her because that's what she always said to me; she said it to me before she left the apartment to go out with her sister, and that was the last thing she said to me.
"Okay I really have to go." She says, giggling as I pull her against me again, pressing my lips against hers again and then pouting at her when she pulls away from me. I pull her back towards me and wrap my arms around her neck. Pressing my forehead against hers and grazing my lips against hers while she lets out soft giggles.
"But I don't want you to go."
"I know but she's waiting for me, I have to go, you'll see me tomorrow anyway." She replies, kissing my forehead and then pulling out of my grip. She smiles at me while walking towards the front door, I stay stood in the middle of our apartment, pouting at her with my arms crossed over my chest. "Don't look at me like that."
"I'll look at you however I want to, you're leaving me."
"You know that I love you."
"Yes I know, and I love you more." I say, sending her a smile that causes her face to light up as she smiles back at me, picking up her keys.
"If you say so."
Those words are stuck in my head, the last four words she ever said to me and I can't fucking forget them. I stare up at the ceiling repeating those words, over and over, imagining the smile that would go with them when she saw me rolling my eyes at her.
I grab my phone off the nightstand and stare at the screen, the picture of us lighting up, causing me to let out a sob because I'll never get to see her face again, her brown eyes or her perfect smile. I'll never get to hear her voice again; she'll just be a memory to me. I unlock my phone, go on to my contacts and dial her number; even though I know she won't answer I still ring her, just to hear her voice on her voicemail.
"I either can't be bothered to pick up the phone, or I don't want to talk to you. Whatever, you know what to do."
I smile to myself as I hear her giggling, knowing that she was giggling because I hit her over the head with a pillow and told her that she couldn't have that as her voicemail. She just shrugged and then mumbled something about how it could've been worse.
I end the call, placing my phone on my chest and then leaning against the headboard, still expecting my phone to ring, her ringtone blasting out. Expecting her to call back because she missed my call, because she always used to miss my calls, and then she'd have to call me back. Moaning about how she always has to waste her minutes calling me. I'd retaliate by saying that it's her fault for not picking up when I called her in the first place.
I just want to see her face, I want to see the sparkle in her eyes when the sun shines in them at the perfect angle, making the dark brown turn into light hazel. Making her gaze warm and inviting, making me fall in love with her all over again. I just want to see her smiling at me, I want her to walk through the door, grinning at me and telling me that it was just one of her stupid pranks, and that she hasn't actually left me.
I'd just slap her chest and cry against her because she's back, my girl is back, but that's not going to happen, she's gone and she's not coming back. I'm alone, without her I'm alone and I will never find someone that I love as much as I love her.
I can't sleep, but the only time I've gotten out of bed is when I need to use the toilet. I've not eaten any actual food in six days, I've survived on granola bars and pita chips. The wrappers are haphazardly thrown on the floor.
My eyes are beginning to sting, the mixture of not sleeping and crying too much, no doubt my eyes are bloodshot. I don't care though because what's the point in attempting to look at least a tiny bit presentable if she's not going to be here to see me. I don't care what anyone else things about me, she was the only one whose opinion mattered to me.
I pick up my phone and dial her number again, just to hear her voice again, but this time I leave a message, knowing that no one is going to hear it.
"I either can't be bothered to pick up the phone, or I don't want to talk to you. Whatever, you know what to do."
"Why did you have to leave me? Why couldn't you have stayed with me, not gone out that day and not taken that many drugs, not drank too fucking much. You fucking left me, I'm alone and I don't know what to do. Why did you have to leave me this way?! I didn't realise until after you fucking left me how much my life revolves around you!" I scream into my phone, wiping the tears off my face, I almost expect her to mumble something under her breath.
"I want to hate you for leaving me, I want to hate you for not thinking about what you were doing when you drank as much as you did. But I can't fucking hate you because I fucking love you too much. You're a fucking idiot you know that right."
If she was here she'd mumble something about how I'm right about her being an idiot, but she's my idiot. I'd agree and then press my lips against hers.
"I love you more." I whisper into my phone, letting the tears drip off my face and on to her t-shirt that I'm still gripping on to. "If you say so." I mumble, ending the call and then throwing my phone down on the bed.
I need to get out of bed, I need to have a shower and I need to put clean clothes on. I need to get my shit together because she's not coming back to me; I need to learn to live without her because the rest of my life is going to be like this. I push myself up, kicking the bed sheets off me and lying her t-shirt down in the middle of the bed before standing up, running my fingers through my hair and then walking towards the window. I open the curtain, squinting because I've been sat in the dark for the past six days, my eyes are no longer used to light.
I let out a sigh and then walk towards the bathroom that's connected to the bedroom, pushing the door open and then stepping inside. Shutting the door and then leaning against it, locking it behind me before pulling my hoodie over my head and then dropping it on the ground, sliding my sweats down my legs and then turning the shower on.
I stare at the wall in front of me, listening to the water hitting the bottom of the bath before I step into the shower, letting the water pour over my body, washing away six days of tears and sweat. I run my fingers through my hair as the water runs down my body. I go to grab my shampoo and end up picking hers up.
I glance down at my hand, dropping it and then leaning against the wall as more tears roll down my face, mixing with the water from the shower as I slide down the wall. Leaning my head back and placing my hands over my eyes, letting more tears roll down my cheeks as I begin to shake. I shut my eyes and just let the water hit me.
She's gone, she's really gone.