It’s been weeks. She turns and sighs at the darkness that engulfs her thoughts, consuming her mind in a flurry of sadness and nostalgia.
Dragging herself out of the warm sheets, she takes a deep breath and watches the rain as it splatters against the bedroom window.
Pressing her nose to the pane, her eyes take in the sights of a water-drenched street as her mind wanders to the love of her life.
Six weeks. That was how long it had been. He hadn’t spoken.
Eyes closed, she remembers how his fingers would trace the curve of her chin as he openly admired the rough scars of misfortune on them. Strong hands would embrace her body as she crumpled against him in sadness. Whispered love notes were always filled with longing and truth. Nothing less.
So, why so silent now? Her mind doesn’t scream in frustration, but merely asks in contemplation.
Months of togetherness followed by weeks of silence.
She turns and stares at his smiling face on the canvas. Reaching out, her palms touch the cheekbones and say, “Are you there today?”