The ache of emptiness greets him each morning. He wakes to the reminder that something isn’t right, that she is no longer there. Death took her away. Death stole his joy. In the night, he sleeps in oblivion to his loneliness. In the morning, reality stabs his heart like shafts of light piercing through the windows.
The ache of emptiness accompanies him through the day. Off to work he goes, carrying the trunk of isolation, growing heavier each day. Death took her away. Death robbed him of purpose. At the office, he works until exhausted. When the clock strikes the close of business, the silence blankets about him like a blizzard of icy snow.
Alone he chooses to be. The bittersweetness of love holds him inert. The ache of emptiness reminds him that something isn’t right. Death took her away. Mourning has not freed him of her. Mourning has yet to release him from the smell of her on his pillow. What day is this he cannot say. The ache of emptiness holds him prisoner.