another short write

I'm double dipping again! Here's my newest short write for school. The assignment was to write about an emotion without specifically stating it.

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The lone can of beer he left in the fridge is finally gone. I talk to myself aloud as I do the dishes, none of them his. I don't rinse away the remnants of a meal lovingly prepared and shared with family, but only frozen meals consumed in solitude. The salt and pepper shakers mock me for even they have a better half. It is so quiet. I watch funny videos online and my laughter breaks through the silence like rays of sunlight stabbing through fog. It echoes off the walls and comes back to me sounding awkward. I sort through the laundry; there are no boxers, only lace panties never enjoyed. I turn on a baseball game, though not really to watch. Instead, it fills my apartment with sounds of summertime, home, and of birthdays past.

I used to stay on my side of the bed, but now I take up as much space as possible, every inch rescued from the cold. I lay there childlike stretched and sprawled and contorted in weird positions, clutching a teddy bear. It was his as a child and when he gave it to me it smelled like a dusty, untouched attic. I washed it and a few seams appeared looser than they were before. But the dust was gone, the smell of the forgotten removed. I rub his ear between my finger and thumb as I fall asleep and wonder who it soothes more.

I wake with my feet tangled up in the sheets. I imagine they are intertwined with his, though I know my feet are merely experiencing the effects of a restless night. Being tangled up in the sheets now only has one meaning to me: bad dreams. The only relief is that these dreams are worse than reality. I lay in bed for a moment and listen to the neighbor's dog bark. He wanted to get a puppy, but I told him they were too much work. Now I think to myself it would be nice to have another living thing in this space. I stumble to the bathroom and the toilet paper is on the holder exactly how I like it, not how ever he haphazardly decided to put in on. His toothbrush is not in the drawer next to mine. No razor, shaving cream, or dirty bar of soap is on the counter. I study myself in the mirror. Messy hair and dry skin, but my eyes still sparkle. A new day begins.