It was just like any other morning. I'd get up and stretch and yawn for as long as I can because it wakes me up. And then I'll go to the kitchen to see her, because she wakes up earlier than I am, the most beautiful girl in the world.
She'd make me breakfast: toasted bacon and soft fried eggs, "real" orange juice from a carton, three slices of bread with peanut butter and jelly, and she'd make me a coffee, two cubes of sugar and one spoin of cream, just the way I like it.
I'd see her without any pants, wearing one of my shirts that's too lose for her. Her favorite's the black one with printed tattoo design in it, made out of cotton fabric for the summer heat.
I would prepare for work while she stays that way for another hour or two, reading her favorite graphic novels while lying on our nest, holding a jar of pickles, with untied and messy hair and nerdy glasses. And then I'll check the time on my three-year-old wrist watch. I always check the time.
"I forgot again." I said, letting out a abyssal sigh. I looked at her again, wearing a vague smile that seemed all too realistic. I opened one of our kitchen drawers and grabbed a small tupperware, filled with the house's medical needs. I searched for a tablet, and once I've found I looked at her again.
"I love you." I said. I can't count how many times I've said it to her; it must've been hundred thousands. She replied with a giggle that I can never, ever forget.
I took the meds, and within a short span of time she's not there anymore. Like a foam of bubbles, she vanished into nothingness. I hate it when my mind does that — fooling myself into thinking that she's still here and then making her go away again, and again, and again, but I guess I have no other choice but to endure until it ends.
It's been three years, I still can't forgive myself for not being there with you; I still can't forget what happened.
I grabbed the coffee mug with hot coffee that I must've made for myself unconsciously. I stirred it as I sat on a chair and stared blankly on our wall.
I got loss in time, the coffee got cold.