Lovers’ Parting

I have heard that when a person loses a limb, they are commonly haunted by phantom pains. I partake in what I imagine to be a similar experience as I lay in bed at night, disregarding the demands of well-needed sleep. My hands tingle as they relive their past,
imagining her delicate waist resting against their palms. Once more I feel the tight knit of her red sweater against my fingertips and am left with overwhelming emotions of pain-ridden happiness. My situation differs from that of an amputee, however, in that my memories serve as both my disability and prosthetic, for without my recollections I would be unable to function.

The day of the funeral I stood alone, my shadow hovering over her sleeping figure. In that moment, I begged all forces of the universe to pause time and allow me to remain by her side, to watch over her until she awoke. Denying my request, the world tore me away from her and expected me to continue living, as if I could ever proceed alone. Contrary to my wishes on The Day, I now plea for time to increase its pace, for every day that passes is a day closer to seeing her once again.

Until I am granted this request, I shall force my soul to separate from hers, allowing my mind to rest. As my head sinks deeper into the pillow, I expel my final thoughts and exchange them for a silent void. Although it may only be for the night, I chase sleep in the hopes of reuniting with her in my dreams.