§ Keys, which I hope are in my Nana's funky ashtray from the 60's.
§ Rainbow Brite backpack, used as a purse, which might currently reside on the couch.
§ Work bag, on the end table, surrounded by DVD boxes, lord only knows the location of the actual DVDs.
§ Shoes, sacrificed during the expedition for a Diet Coke, I believe they were kicked off in the kitchen next to LuLu's new giant pillow, which Santa brought her for Christmas.
§ Pants, which were discarded in the hallway, hey I almost made it to the bathroom.
§ Gaming bag, on the passenger side of my bed.
§ Shirt, on THE chair in my room. You know which one. The one everyone has but no one sits in because it's covered in clothes.
§ Hair, carefully placed on its pedestal, where she belongs.
I did obtain my shirt from the bathroom before finally heading to the bedroom. It's only a shirt by technicality. It has a front/back/sleeves, but also can't be worn outside for fear of an indecent exposure citation. It's so thin, tissue paper would provide more coverage. But...it's safe, it's comfort, it's security.
I wash my face, then apply the astringents, lotions, gels & creams. I don't know why I go through this routine, I don't even wear makeup but a routine I am religious about.
I put down fresh water and food for the cat, JiJiPusGato and finally crawl heavily in to my bed.
All of this is done without turning on a light, in a darkened house at a later hour than I’d like for it to be.
Shuffle. Scoot. Peaks from behind heavy eyelids. Turns. Moves just a little bit more. Then feel it. Laying up against her I start to relax. I find my spot.
Little noises exist that can become unnecessarily loud with silence. I crack open an eye just to check. Everything is fine but I don't want to move too much, I don't want to disturb her. As long as she lays here...I will too. In that moment I’m safe, all is good.
The sun comes up too early as it’s known to sometimes do. And I stretch, unfolding from a night of restlessness. I reach out to wake her, time to get going.
Ridiculously Stupid Golden…
I pick up my gaming bag from next to me. All night half conscious seeing a curl of black, feeling warmth on my leg, trying to be still to appease a bag. All because I fucking forgot.
She is gone.
How stupid am I to forget she's gone. I don't have an answer. All I know is that she is gone and I'm still not used to it.
And the silence she has left behind is deafening.