Our empty bedroom where we once shared a blanket, mattress, and each other’s warm embrace now lies vacant at the back of the apartment. It is desolate and seems more barren than when you gathered your things and moved out.
The room is no longer dominated by your queen sized bed that once served as an infinite canvas on which we artistically displayed our love for each other. Now, this space seems much too claustrophobic to be called the master bedroom. It seemed like it was much more spacious in my memories of us getting out of the shower and making our way to the bed to have as much of our skin in contact with each other’s as possible.
When you would wake up before dawn to prepare for work, the walk-in closet seemed quite a distance away from the bed. Now it seems to be within an arms reach of the imprints left in the rug where your bedposts once stood.
This room is closing in on itself. The walls are collapsing in on each other as if they are the walls of my lungs as I take a deep breath of the air in this lifeless-smelling room. I only let out a sigh when I notice that I can’t see out of the window anymore. The small tree that was below the second story window had grown to completely cover the window, denying any sunlight entry into this room.
When you left, the exuberance bled from this room. All is eclipsed with you moving out, leaving only an empty silent darkness of a bedroom graveyard.
We had our issues while living together, but why do I miss you being here so much?
I miss those days when you were there with your comforting bright smile……