Haunted

Every evening i arrive home, alone. I hate my apartment. Just too many memories. Her ghost still haunts this place. Every now and then i can catch her phantom scent in the air. Sometimes if i'm digging around for something, i'll find a long black hair that didn't come from me. It's a reminder of memories long gone, and that i should probably clean up a little more often.

If i've got food i'll cook, but i'm left with way too much so it lasts me a couple of nights. I find myself with way too much time on my hands. The isolation gets to me a little more every day. The worst part is that most of it is of my own volition. Sometimes i read, or watch the same tired movies, write, but mostly i think. I think about all the nights and moments that brought me to this point, but i never feel better about any of it. This can't be what my life has become, what i've become. On the those seldom events that i talk to someone, i tell them i'm fine, i've moved on, that i'm doing better. I still don't know who it is i'm trying to convince. I barely smile anymore. I feel like something inside me is gone, has rotted away.

Eventually, i kill enough time to finally call it a day. The bed seems so much bigger than before. I'll lay for hours until sleep finally comes to claim me. Every night i have the same dream. In it we're together, happy as all the plans we made come to fruition. Funny how nothing ever looks even remotely like the brochure. I wake up, and again, every night i'm disappointed by the empty place next to me. It makes me feel sad, pathetic, and small. I roll myself into a ball, curling as tight as physically possible, and pray that when the sleep returns, that the dreams don't follow.

The alarm goes off every morning at 6, and i fight with the snooze button for a half hour. I finally drag myself out of bed, and run through the motions of getting ready for the day. I spend the entire morning commute dreading the moment i walk into work, where the dreams become a nightmare.