She just laid there in bed with the sad music playing. The hot salty tears flowing down her face. Her heart broken. She kept fiddling with the engagement ring he gave her before he left to America. It's been a month with no contact from the love of her life. Was he alive? Was he dead? Was he missing? Something felt wrong.
Every night she would dream that he would come bursting through those doors with roses and apologize about making her worry. Then he would wrap his arms around her telling her everything would be okay.
No matter what her friends did or say she felt empty and numb. She couldn't tell anyone because they wouldn't understand and they would judge her. He was three years older than her. Maybe he ran off with another woman. Maybe he was tired of her acting like a child.
They didn't see what it was like when they were alone. He made her laugh for hours and she always had a smile on her face. The tickle fights. The mind blowing soul connecting sex. It was something special. She could never get enough of him inside or out.
Her phone kept buzzing but she turned it on silent. She wanted to be left alone to her misery and sadness. She was supposed to go the gym and an animal shelter but that wasn't going to happen. She might get up to eat or shower.
In her hands was the shirt he wore the night before he left. She inhaled the cologne he would only wear when he was around her. It sent her over the edge.
I love you. Come back to me. I miss you with all my heart and soul. Where are you? Come back to me. I'm nothing without you. I don't want to live without you.
Beside her was a picture of them laughing on the grass at the park. It was the day he said he loved her. She would continue to stare at it and cry. Alone. Isolated. Depressed. In the end it didn't matter. He wasn't going to call or come home because he was dead.