He was so lonely here, his eyes traced a line along his couch he could still hear her laughter. Soft and sweet, the tears welling up in those beautifully colored eyes as she held her sides. The kiss that he stole when she dozed off during the last movie. Then there was the goodbyes they shared for the last time, unknown to them.
He sat down softly, the couch crying out with the weight of him as he slumped in front of a still TV. His reflection barely visible in the small screen, he snorted softly he could still see the wine stain on the rug. He remembered it fondly, how drunk she got on the Cabernet he'd bought. She told him everything, from her most secret fantasies to her love of her sister and how she missed her.
His heart dropped as he looked at his hands, how stained were they from the blood he'd shed in the name of the BO's motive? How much blood would he continue to shed...would she be next? He felt a jolt of panic race through him, feeling the first prickles of tears on his eyes. He felt cold and numb at the thought but...what if he had to do it? What if he had to rip from himself the one thing that's mattered to him at all?
His heart broke, and it felt heavy in his chest as he leaned back, how angry was he that she'd left him? Left him there heart broken and alone, left only with the unsettling silence of his apartment. He closed his eyes as the tears rolled down his cheeks, would she ever know? Know that, deep in the chasm of his darkened heart, there was a place reserved only for her. A beautiful place, filled with the sunshine of summer and the warm rains of spring.
Often he would escape to this place and imagine they were free of the BO, living a normal life, working normal jobs and raising a normal family. Where everything was okay, and there was no more fear, no more pain, only the happiness they'd share together. He pictured himself a man well into his 50's, and her, a woman well into her 30's, sharing his retirement from work. Raising some kind of animal like, dogs or horses in the country side, and enjoying a life of fantasy.
He imagined holding dinner parties where he could cook to his hearts content, and everyone would praise him. The girls would envy her, and tease her light heartedly, her flushed face made him smile. When it was over, he'd touch her in a way no one else could and bring her about with kisses so sweet. She's whisper his name in the dark, not his BO name, his real name, and he'd whisper hers back. As they lay entangled in one another limbs and ragged breaths.
The ring of his cellphone jolted him out of his fantasies, he looked at the phone in distaste. That's right, it was all in his head, nothing would ever change, he'd be living this life and walking this path until he died. There was no love, no joy, only the deep black feelings of nothingness to accompany them. He looked at the text he'd received and closed his phone as he stood, taking one last longing look at his apartment.
The photo of him and her caught his eye, wrapped in a plain wood frame, it was all he could get a hold of quickly. He advanced on it, her puzzled expression left him with heavy feelings, and a sad smile. He studied her beautiful eyes, that shone with a child like wonder, he'd never seen on her. Those lips opened partly in surprise, untouched, and unstained at this point. He gave a hard swallow, he had to let go of these emotions, it hurt so much but it needed to be done.
He set the picture down and flipped it face down on the stand it stood on. No more would he cling to a fantasy, to a memory, and unspoken feelings. She wasn't coming back, and if she did, she wouldn't be around long enough to understand these complex feelings. His last words echoed in the mostly empty apartment, a tribute to feelings and affections now dead.
"Good bye, Sherry"