She woke in the middle of the night short of breath. She sat up quickly, looked around the black room as she tried to trace back to what caused her this distress. He just told her he was madly in love with her; they say right on that couch. She leaned against the doorframe staring the couch down as she sipped a glass of water. She closed her eyes choking back tears. He left late, it had been foggy and drizzling that night. Her apartment had a cool, wet fall air about it that the breeze carried in through the open windows. The curtains danced eerily. She couldn’t calm down.
She instantly knew that something bad happened. She stood paralyzed in paranoid fear that if she moved, the world would continue turning, which would set off a chain of events she could’ve prevented if only she’d thought. It was like she’d seen it all. She leaned harder into the doorframe, sliding slowly down to the floor now watching the taunting curtains. She knew he was gone. Gone.
She suddenly dropped the cup of water to her left and caved to her right. She laid on the cool wooden floor, gazing painfully at the legs of the couch. That damn couch. She’d certainly have to get rid of it. What was she thinking? Who cares about the couch; he was lost forever. She began to sob. She sobbed so hard into the bend of her elbow that she couldn’t even feel the tears streaming from her eyes as they formed a small pool on either side of her forearm.
She woke suddenly to her alarm clock hollering at her to get up. She felt drained. She carefully crawled out of bed. Her feet hit the freezing floor, reminding her of the previous night’s conclusion. There was a message on the machine. She reluctantly pushed the button inevitably to hear a painful reiteration of the night’s occurrence.
“Beep”. “Hey, Jane. It’s me. I’s just calling to say ‘good morning’. I’m really glad we got to talk last night, bet you had as sweet of dreams as I did. Hope you have a good day at work, and hey, I love you.”
