Today you will flip through the newspaper as you drink your morning tea, wishing his name was printed in bold letters. You might even wish to see your own name next to his, just to assure yourself that you even knew him in the first place. Instead, there will be a story on politics. You will throw the paper in the bin. The tea will still be hot.
Today you will rearrange the furniture for the third time this month. You will begin to contemplate getting rid of that damn armchair. As always, something will stop you. As you throw a blanket over it, you try not to remember the man who should be sitting there.
Today your landlady will ask you how you're doing. You feel a lump in your throat that throbs and aches, and right hand will begin to shake, still grasping onto your cane. His voice will intrude your thoughts again. Did it sound the same as the last time you'd heard it? You will tell her that you are doing fine, thank you.
Today you will contemplate visiting the place where you first met him. A hospital that specializes in bettering the lives of its patients, it had done the same for you so long ago. You had been so alone. He was the one who managed to get you out of the rut that had become your life. You no longer fell asleep in silence, but rather to the soft sound of violin music from the parlor. You will long for that noise again. You will decide not to go, because while it held a beginning, it was also where everything ended.
Tonight you will arrive home to an empty flat. You will wait for the sound of his boredom: agitated footsteps, mumbled thoughts, maybe a gunshot or two. You will be disappointed once again to hear only the sound of your own anxious breathing. You will retire to bed early, knowing that you will not sleep well tonight.
Tonight you will watch in horror as he jumps again and again, coat billowing behind him. You have seen this a thousand times. You have witnessed his death every night for the past two months. Pale skin, dark hair. Blood. Everywhere. You will wake up with a choking scream.
You will be alone, just as you were before you met him, but you are not the same.
You will never be the same.
