A World Without Her

It was so lonely, almost as though Matthew was adrift in the middle of the ocean, because the sky was stretching out for forever in its dazzling blue and the tears in his eyes couldn’t distinguish where it ended, if it ever ended at all.

Matthew was sitting on his front porch, on one of the comfy chairs, a bottle of beer in his hand and the seat next to him empty. It hadn’t ever been empty, not in the time that he had lived here. He and Jane had done this many times together, but watching the twilight fading away wasn’t the same without her. How could it be, when this was essentially their thing? For as long as they had been together they had done this, when they couldn’t sleep or when Jane was having a bad day. They would sit and talk about sweet nothings, sometimes for all night long. He remembered once, in the winter, they had come out even though there had been feet of snow on the ground, and, wrapped up in sleeping bags and blankets, they had roasted marshmallows over the barbeque and laughed until the sun came up.

God, how much he missed her. The tears had been rolling down his face uncontrollably since he had left the graveyard and he had made no attempt to stop them. What was the point, when his heart was literally breaking in his chest? What was the point in stopping crying, when the tiniest thing would simply set him off again?

He took a swig of his beer, not drunk, but not quite sober either, and stared out at the deep blue sky. The sky hadn’t changed and neither had the moon, but it wasn’t the same without Jane. He looked at his hand and more tears spilled over because instead of clutching Jane’s hand he was holding a bottle of beer, and that was his only companion tonight, his only companion for miles. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, despite how much it agonized him to do so. It was as though she were a tiny bit closer to him when he thought of her, as though her hand could brush his cheek at any minute, though he knew it was impossible. Even if she was still on this earth, she was somewhere far out of reach. Still, if thinking about her made him feel less lonely, that’s what he would do.

She was all around him. Not in the way he would most like, perhaps, but how could you forget someone that you loved so much? How could you forget the person you loved with your whole life, your heart, your very soul? Matthew didn’t think it was possible, and he guessed he would have to keep hope within the open-ended side of the letter he still held in his hand. The fact it was curled around the beer bottle basically summed up the last two days – or it must be the third day now. Matthew didn’t care. It no longer mattered.

But he could feel her. Perhaps she was telling the truth, perhaps one day she would come back. She’d told him to move on, but he knew he wouldn’t, and he knew she would know he would wait for her. Of course, he would wait until the day he died, and even if he only saw her for the last few seconds of his life before he passed away on his deathbed, the waiting would be worth it. Forever was nothing when it came to Jane. Forever was a word, and Matthew was prepared to wait it. He would live in hope of seeing her come up that driveway once more, but until then, he would simply immerse himself in the thoughts of her and hope that it would be enough to sustain him for now. Live it day by day, he thought, and perhaps he could make it through.

He only wished for one thing, and that was he wished he could change her mind. He wished that it were possible to go back to the night she left, and to stand in the room and observe as she slept beside him, before she woke up to leave. He would walk over to her, or glide, or however the state he would be in travelled and he would brush away a strand of hair and whisper into her ear that he never wanted her to leave. Perhaps she would subconsciously hear it in her dreams, and she would wake up and watch him as he slept, and instead of getting up she would wrap her arms around him and go back to sleep.

It was wishful thinking, but oh God, how he wished it could become a reality. He would do anything to make it so, instead of having to sit here and miss her. There was something always wrong; some part of him was so empty that it physically hurt to breathe. He had sobbed so much he had pulled stomach muscles and his eyes and throat were raw. He had screamed and raged, thrown things, broken down in tears so powerful that he had been sick. He had thrown temper tantrums and then suddenly gone into quiet contemplation, but the tears always followed down his cheeks. Now he was here, the thoughts of her glistening in teardrops every single time he blinked.

"You don’t know how much I wish you were here," he whispered to the bitter air. "You don’t know what I’d give just to see you again. Please, Jane. Please hear me, wherever you are. Please come back. I won’t be upset. I won’t be mad. I’ll just be so happy to see you that ... God, I don’t even know what I’d do. Hold you, of course. I just want to feel your arms wrapped around me again. I wish I knew where you were, at least. Perhaps I could write to you? That’s what I’d do. I’d send you a postcard, a postcard of someplace we both love, and I’d just tell you what you mean to me. I’d always send you postcards until you came home. Letters to Jane, yeah? But I don’t even have an address. I don’t even know if you even have an address to give me. But you have a home here, Jane. So please, wherever you are ... come back home. Come back to me."

His voice was carried off in the slight breeze and of course he heard no answer back. He simply sat, finishing his beer but not bothering to get up and get a new one. He didn’t want to leave the porch right now, where he could hear her laughter whispering around him and feel her fingers entwining with his. He closed his eyes and stayed waist-deep in thought, immersing himself in her jokes and her voice, in her kisses and her soft touch, in her laughter and even in her tears. He would wait until the end of time for her, and that was a promise with God as his witness.

He dozed off slowly, missing her arms around him but still feeling them all the same. As he fell into a deeper sleep, his breath came out in a whisper as he pictured her face again.

"Oh darling, I wish you were here."

The sun rose and the birds sang and the leaves scattered around the drive, and somewhere, somehow, a smile came to Jane’s face.