The dead silence of the night pulls me from sleep. I reach over with my right hand and feel the cold sheets where she used to lay. In my dream she was still here, the fight never happened, I hadn't been such a fool. But the empty space next to me brings it all back like the bitter taste of bile on my tongue.
The alarm clock cries out in a shrill voice, and I reach across the never-ending space that was once hers to silence it. I smell her pillow like I've done for the last six mornings, then push the blankets back to start another day without her.
I start the water running for my shower and brush my teeth in front of the mirror. My reflection scares me a little when I see how much weight I've lost; it's only been a week. The hot water in the shower stings as I step in, and I adjust the handle slightly.
During my shaving, I accidently cut the side of my neck with the razor. When I look down, I see a thin trail of blood running to the drain. I bring the razor back up to my neck and the trail thickens into a stream, then a river.
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