It was cold and Misty felt the
chill in her bones as she laid there in her bed alone. She reached down and gently pulled up the
extra blanket that rested at the foot of the bed for nights just like these. That blanket only offered her minimal comfort
as it wasn’t what she really longed for or needed and it surely hadn’t
comforted the emotions inside of her that flowed out in tears. She knew that there wasn’t much that could
help her in that area, she couldn’t turn back the clock this night and make
things better; all that she was able to do was watch the minutes tick by as she
continued to shiver from the cold and the hurt.
She remembered the nights that
she had laid quietly and comfortably in Paul’s arms. There had been thousands of those nights; she
had felt safe and loved with him and through his touch. She longed for his touch, to hear his
breathing and have it lull her into sleep and she laid there trying to find it
in her mind’s eye. Misty also knew that
she would never feel that again and she knew that what she had felt with him,
the chemistry that they had together could never be had with anyone else. Her mental diary was afloat with all that
they had done together and all that they had been and she prayed for sleep to
come so that she could live within the dream of her love for him.
Sleep didn’t come and neither did
Paul, he had left her in a way that her rational thoughts knew was
lasting. It wasn’t the rational thoughts
that Misty lived in now; it was the dreams and her imagination. She needed
them, just as much as she had needed Paul and she hung onto every thread in her
mind, weaving together his being as if he were real and there. She created their walks to the lake, their
lazy days on the beach and she created his arms around her. She closed her eyes and his scent filled her
nostrils as if he was beside her.
Misty was the only one there
however and she was beside herself in grief and pain. There was no smile to be had, and even
glancing over at his picture on her nightstand brought her to tears. She tried with diligence to speak to him
through that photo, but he did not answer, for he couldn’t. She touched his face with her fingers and
reminded him how deeply she loved him. She
thought about how he never really understood her love for him, nor did she
understand his for her. She wondered why
they loved each other so deeply and yet those words were left unsaid at the
end.
There were only tears that day,
uncontrollable sobbing fits and the inability to accept or recognize the fact
that Paul was gone. He wouldn’t be back
and her bed would forever remain empty, just as her heart would remain
irreparably broken. She shut down after
that day, partially out of self-preservation and partially because without Paul
she felt as if her heart was missing the second beat. He had completed her in many ways, given her
strength when she had none and made her laugh when she wanted to cry. She had fallen so deeply in love with him
that without him her life was meaningless.
Misty couldn’t find any meaning
in her loneliness and so she pulled the covers tighter up around her neck,
grabbing the picture of Paul off the night stand and bringing it under the
covers with her. It was senseless that
he was gone; it was senseless that he had left her like that. What few friends that she had left had
assured her that she would get over it and that the pain would lessen with
time, but Misty knew that wasn’t the case.
She knew that she would never get over it and she knew that the hurt
inside her was too deep to repair. Misty
knew that the words, “what if”, would plague her until she was no longer.
Misty reached over and grabbed
for another tissue as the tears quietly rolled down her cheeks. The tears, at that moment, were the only
thing that reminded her of what she had lost of who she had lost. He had been her soul mate and she knew
that. She knew that in some way, even
though he did not want to admit it, Paul also knew that. He had hesitated to tell her he loved her, it
hadn’t been his style, but she knew that he did; he had shown her in many ways
and many times. But as the tears flowed
she thought about what the police officers said when they had knocked on the
door. The last words he had uttered as
they pulled him from the wreckage. At that moment in time, at that very second
that Paul knew he could never tell her himself he had asked the Medic to, “Tell
Misty I love her like I’ve loved no other.”
And Misty knew that she too had loved him like she had and never would
love another.
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