Chapter 2 Wake Up

​I still remember the morning that I woke up thinking today is going to be a good day and I lean over to get a warm embrace to find only his keys to our Condo and a napkin with the words "I'm sorry" written in pencil. What does "I'm Sorry", really mean? See I thought sorry means I wish I would have never done that or I won't ever do it again or my favorite one, I never meant to hurt you. That is what I'm sorry means, you can't say sorry as you are in the act of doing something completely opposite of the definition.

I felt fear, fear that what if he doesn't make good on saying I'm sorry and return so that he doesn't hurt me. I was afraid that he didn't wish he hadn't done it. I was afraid that he didn't really mean to say I'm sorry, but instead he meant to say I'm leaving. Can you imagine the feeling of not having the use of your hands, feet, eyes and ears? The possibility that the necessary five senses are gone forever and you have to endure living without them for the rest of your life. The very thought of it is frightening. He was my sixth sense; he had become a necessity, a reason for living, the ability to feel and the need to hunger and thirst.

There is some pain so great that your brain becomes confused and tears cannot even form within your eyes. When you can't show the emotions that you have on the inside that's when you have experienced great pain. ​What comes next is every woman's worst nightmare.

Self-blaming. What did I do wrong? Was I not taking care of his needs? Did I forget to be considerate of his feelings? Have I stopped keeping myself up good enough? Reflections of your quarrels over you not cooking enough or making love enough begin to cloud your head and suddenly you feel dizzy and light headed. It's time to lie down. Which is exactly what I did?

I lay down to rest my eyes and the next time I opened them it was two days later when the door bell rang. My body had become stiff. I had to will myself off the couch to muster out "Who is it". "It's Ryan from Stanley Movers." I opened the door and there stood Ryan the very same man that orchestrated our moving day when we closed on the Condo. "Hey Ms. James, Mr. Covin asked me to come and gather the rest of his things. Is now a good time?" NO! I replied. No it is not a good time to rip the remains that I have of him from me." "I understand Ms. James, believe me I understand. I can come back another day when it's more convenient for you" he answered. ​At that moment reality sat in and I knew that I would never see Joseph Covin again. What could I have done that caused him to not even want to get his own things? ​