All that was left was to pace the floor chasing old shadows, waiting to find her things in every nook. Her hair bands and bobby pins, pieces of fabric and sequin from her costumes ripped off and left in a pile on the floor, all waiting around every corner.
They used to make me smile and think of her fondly. Even though she was five hours away, these things used to make her feel close.
Now, they were the ghosts of Christmas past, left to haunt my soul for god knows how long. Every space she once inhabited still somehow held a piece of her.
I wanted to curse the heavens, and punch a wall.
Songs I could never listen to again, warm moments made cold.
All that was left was to pace and think, and hope. To hope she remembered the love. The love I gave. A love she would never feel again. Not from the next guy, the guy after that, or anyone else.
Not like that.
Even if it wasn’t enough, it was something.
I wasn’t ready to jump in front of a bus, but were a bus to jump out at me, well, I was indifferent to the idea.
So I paced.
Eventually, rather than fearing what was hiding around all those corners I was going to have to figure out how to turn one.
But not today.