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I Do Not Like Waking Up Alone

I do not like waking up alone. It’s been more than a decade since I have, so long that I've become spoiled to seeing your lovely face by mine when I wake up. If you weren't in bed, you would be in the kitchen, making yourself breakfast, or in the game room, screaming at the characters and laughing along with their jokes.
I do not like waking up alone. The kids are at school, already grown up enough that they don’t need their father or mother fussing over them. I become afraid when they don’t wake me up, that they forgot all about their baba and they’re already spreading their wings, however inevitable that someday might be.
I do not like waking up alone. The house is cold without screaming and laughing children, without the trill of your lovely voice singing to the dog, the dog barking in imbalanced tune. Even the dog is gone today, out with its puppies and its own true love.
I do not like waking up alone. My limbs are sore and my mind numb and groggy from far too much sleep. I throw back the sheets and lazily hop out of bed, stretching out like a cat. The chill of winter bites at my joints, a welcoming sensation. With some reluctance, I begin my daily routine: put on clothes, use the bathroom, brush my teeth, et cetera. But it all feels so empty and pointless without you.
I do not like waking up alone. The small but expansive house is splayed before me, trying to bring back the liveliness it has lost. Dare I step forward into the abyss of my own doing? I do, one foot after the other. I count the steps to the kitchen (105) and back to the dining room (19). I imagine us sitting there as a family, our adopted and natural kids, with their friends who join us on days they rely on you or me to be driven to school.
I do not like waking up alone. My coughs are echoed through the halls and bounce off every surface, sickening to my ears. I am growing too old, yet I am still so young. You would laugh at me when I say this, your voice the coursing through my veins like lightning in the sky. You are my ambrosia, the nectar that keeps me godlike and sane.
I do not like waking up alone. The bread tastes stale and the milk is sour, but I consume it all the same. When the dishes are cleaned I retreat into my study, my home inside my home. The computer buzzes to life as I sit down, but as my fingers touch the keyboard the words in my mind are a lump in my throat. You are my muse, the embodiment of all that I strive for. Without you, what am I?
There is a noise at the door; your laughter fills the hall and rings in my ears. The children scream excitedly and my heart soars.
I do not like waking up alone, but I always know I will not sleep without you.



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therealclairejazzyThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Mar. 21, 2013 at 2:17 pm
*sigh. So lovely! Wonderful! :)
 
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