Desolation: A 5 Minute Freewrite

I held the threadbare housecoat around me and pulled the belt even tighter. I couldn’t get warm. The cold felt like it was settled into my bones form the inside out. I wondered in some part of my brain if the old robe was actually just holding the cold in at this point. I stood mulling this over for far too long, staring out the window at the barren trees blowing in the breeze. A squirrel skittered across the branches and my eyes followed it, mostly unseeing. What did it matter? I wondered if anything would ever matter to me again.

I realized that my hands were still gripping the belt, squeezing my stomach so hard that it felt as if the skin was pressed against my spine. I let my hands drop to my sides and let myself feel, just for a second. I wanted to see if the ache, the pain was still there.

As soon as I let down my guard, the feelings crashed over me like a violent wave in the middle of the ocean. My body rocked back as though it had been an actual physical blow. A sob broke from my lips. The core of pain radiating out from the depths of my soul, ricocheting back and forth through my body like it had done every time I let myself feel. I tried to pull it back together. I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t feel this, couldn’t possibly handle this yet.

The scenes from two weeks ago flashed in my mind, finding him… no. Finding his body, in our bed. The cold feel of his skin on my face as I lay on him, listening for a heartbeat that wasn’t there, a breath that I would never hear again, feeling my tears flowing down my face and hearing those horrifying, desperate screams echoing through our old house. My own screams that haunted me still, knowing that he had chosen to leave.