intermission - empty bed

It was morning again. I stiill missed him. The spot where we slept was cold again where he should be. It looked so wrong being empty. There was nothing there. I could hear the keys in the door, time to get to work. Whistling and the smell of coffee got me to stir. I just didn't want to leave the warm spot. Staring at nothing.

Light breakfast. A sip of water. The smell of his coffee and a cigarette hanging in the air. I was groggy if I didn't go for my mmorning run. It was like I couldn't even smell the fresh air anymore.

His hands were on me like usual and it was one room to the next. Trying to figure out how to get out. Every day seemed like an exercise in wrong turns. The whole time giving up total control to the man who watched me from the door.

I missed my teddy bear. But all I could do was wait until it was all over and time for him to go again. This was my sad existence in a box. I thought. Mostly because I didn't know that one day I'd have to pay for my empty bed.