Prompt: But you miss it
It’s taken me a while to get used to living without you. The clothes only rarely get washed and the cat was never quite the same. I tell everyone that you’re chronically ill, that you travel frequently for your job, anything to keep from having to admit the truth. To be honest, I don’t care if they can see through my lies anymore.
I left the bedroom just the way you did the day you left. Don’t worry, I keep it clean, but everything is exactly where you left it: your box of pictures, the blue dress hung from the open closet door, the curtains drawn to invite in the sunlight. I couldn’t sleep in there afterwards, so instead I kept it still and silent like a photograph.
I know you’ll come home again, once you’ve gotten this craziness out of your system. You’ll remember how happy you were when Shaleigh was born. You’ll think of the good times we had and you’ll regret leaving. She’s gotten very big, you know. She has a kind soul and an artist’s eye; she looks more and more like you every day. I tell her all I can about you, but it’s just not the same without you here. She denies every good word and clings to the bad. Even though she was so young, I don’t think she ever recovered after you left the two of us.
One day you’ll come back to me, Cristen. Until then I’ll wait. Even if I’m old and gray and sputtering madness; even if you’re angry and a completely different woman from the one I know. I’ll always be here for you. I’ll always love you.
Originally posted on Typetrigger. Fiction in 300 words or less. Please pardon typos or grammatical errors. See sidebar for copyright information.