The silence is a terrible part of this. The loneliest part. She’s not loud (unless she’s around her family), but there was always some noise. Breathing behind me as she reads a book. Snoring softly on the pillow beside mine. Walking through the hallway. Singing in the kitchen. Maybe that’s why I blasted music until midnight last night. To avoid this crushing silence. This house isn’t alive without her in it. I grew used to the sounds, like I grew used to her. But I let familiarity become complacency. I’ve done that in every long term relationship I’ve had, really. One more thing to add to the list of self-improvements to make.
For the longest time, I had a saved voicemails from her on my phone. I lost it when I upgraded my phone. It was from back when we were dating, and she was 8 million miles away. We would talk before bed, and I would listen to her get sleepier and sleepier. One night the line cut out, but she was incredibly sleepy. She called back anyway, but the line was still out, so she left a voicemail in her adorable sleepy voice. I would listen to it anytime we weren’t going to see each other that night. I would give anything to have that back right now. To hear her voice right now.
I love her so much, and there’s nothing I can do about but wait… and hope. I’m so sorry.