Goodbye my Lover

Cameron leaned against the frame of his apartment door. His cheeks were still as dry as a bone, as the realisation that Melinda was gone had not yet hit him. His heart ached, but he could not bring himself to feel the sorrow ; for he knew the pain would be unbearable if he let himself realise the truth. 1

He could feel her presence lingering in the air, her ghost, her aura. In the centre of the room, on a small wooden coffee table, two wine glasses were sitting on the surface. Cameron walked over and sat on the beige sofa opposite. Picking up one glass, he noticed it had lipstick on the rim. She hardly ever wore make up - she didn’t need it! It had been their one year anniversary the previous night, so she’s put a bit of slap on. He carefully ran his thumb over the red smudge. It was an imprint of the lips he would never again kiss, never again feel the softness of them against his. Rage soon took over and he threw it against the wall, glass shards flying everywhere. He was angry at the people who had taken her from him. 2

Cameron started to storm into the bedroom, but stopped dead in his tracks when all he saw was a discarded tank top on the floor, accompanied by a black bra. That memory hit him like a tonne of bricks. After having a drink with Jack and Dana, he and Melinda had decided to celebrate - properly! Their clothes had been almost ripped off as they made their way down the hall towards the bedroom. He remembered the sensation of her skin on hers, and her body pressed to his. How could she be gone? She had been so alive the previous night, that she had probably left finger shaped bruises on his back as she clung to him. His breath hitched at he swallowed back tears - refusing to let them fall. 3

Cameron then opened the door to the bedroom, taking in its appearance. Nothing seemed to have changed in the past few hours. The bed sheets were still unmade and half hanging off the bed. Melinda had always said there wasn’t any point in making them, as they would just me messed up again several hours later. So they left them unmade - the only time they were tidy was when they changed the covers. The dresser was cluttered with lotion bottles and make-up, and the laundry basket was over flowing. She said she was going to do the washing this evening - she never got the chance. 4

One of Cameron’s pale blue shirts was laying on top of the pile of clothes. She had been wearing it to bed every night for the past week, and decided that it needed a wash. He brought it up to his face, breathing it is. As it usually did, It smelt of her. Melinda always had a unique scent, of Gucci perfume mixed with strawberry shampoo. It was a smell that he would always savour when they laid together in bed. He curled into the foetal position, tangled in the bed sheets. He was on his said of the bed, but she wasn’t there with him. He would never again have her body pressed to his in the darkness, as they both slept happily. Never have her babble in her sleep. Never have her crying his name as they made love. Never would he have that loved-up feeling after. He would never have anything again. His breathing quickly became rapid as the realisation hit him. His body shook violently and tears streamed down his face - she really was never coming back. 5

For the first time since he found out she was gone, several hours ago, he cried. 6