The Most Horrible Morning

When I got back, from there,     that night,           I couldn’t sleep… I told you, “I love you”     but you didn’t respond… Why not…? Weren’t you there? I thought I touched your shoulder… Didn’t I…? Was that not your voice, saying, “I love you”? Is that you I see,     in the moonlight? Was that not your hand,     that touched me? What am I thinking? Perhaps, when I sleep tonight,     I’ll wake in the morning,           and I’ll realize               the last few days                     were nothing more,                         than a horrible nightmare… Sleep… Come over me… Let me finish this nightmare,     and you’ll be here… Close eyes… Sleep come… Let me finish this nightmare,     so that I can wake in the morning,           and she’ll be here… And the last few days,     are just that,           the most horrible nightmare,               anyone has ever had… Sleep comes… I think… Is this a dream? I love you… Why don’t you respond? Oh no,     is it morning already? I feel for you in the bed… Where are you? Did you wake before me? Yes,     that’s it,           you’re out making coffee… Let me go look…     “Honey, where are you? Oh yeah,     you went into work last night… But… Why don’t I remember that though...? What’s this? Flowers? I don’t remember buying you flowers,     especially this fresh… Where did they come from…? Oh, there’s a card… Maybe that’ll remind me… What’s this on the card? NO… OH, NO… The card says… NO… PLEASE… It’s not possible… You’re here… You’re just at work… Right…? The card says:     “In sympathy… ” NO…. PLEASE NO… It can’t be…. These last few days,     were nothing more than a nightmare… RIGHT? OH MY GOD…. NO… They were… Weren’t they? SLEEP… COME BACK TO ME… Nightmare,     come back… Let her be here,     when I wake… Suddenly, the phone rings… Is it you? A woman’s voice says…     “You’re back”,           but it’s not your voice… “Can I do anything for you? I’m so sorry…” Oh my GOD… NO… It can’t be… It can’t be true… But it is… NO… NO… NO… She’ll be here in a few minutes… There’s a knock on the door… Why did you knock? You live here… That’s it, you forgot your key… But, it’s a friend of ours… It’s not you… Please don’t make me open the door… Because… If I do… It can only mean… One of two things… Either the two of us shared     the same nightmare… Or… NO… Please NO… That’s not possible… What’s that forlorn look on her face? That means… OH MY GOD… NO… PLEASE NO… If that’s not possible… Then that means… NO… NO… That means… That horrible nightmare,       was no nightmare… The memory… The memory… Is… Real… OH MY GOD… NO… NO… PLEASE… NO… It’s real… My wife… DIED… IN… MY… ARMS… © Jonathan Wikkins October 14th, 2001 Revised February 6, 2008 All Rights Reservedhonestly, I don't know if this is a true memory, or a representation of how I felt... there's so little memory of those days... Written October 14th, 2001 primarily my style is free style, i pretty much write what the muse gives... and write from my heart... I feel, I love, so I live © on Oct 14 2001 08:41 AM PST, David Michael Shurtleff    pain • personal • sad • thoughts