The room was entirely dark except for the blink of the light. It was already 1:26, and he had gone to bed at 10:00.

He sighed and rolled over, facing into the complete darkness again, trying to get off to sleep.

It was no use, he knew that. He had been trying for over three hours now.

The darkness was worse, somehow, than even just watching the clock change.

It had never been hard to sleep before. The even, easy breath from her beside him had always sent him into a comfortable sleep.

But now there was simply silence. The warmth beside him was gone. The soft and sweet breathing beside him was gone.

She was gone.

Left because she was too held down, she said. Wanted to see the world, she said. He would just slow her down, she said. Maybe I’ll come back someday, she said.

He missed her so much, in ways he knew that he would (he laugh, her smile, her voice) and in ways that he hadn’t.

He had taken her warmth and breathing beside him for granted, and now he could not sleep.