§ 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.
Stupid…
Stupid…
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?!
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.
-G
(@theonlygolden)
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