I slammed the front door shut, the sound echoing through the empty house. Throwing my keys somewhere across the room as I walk further into my house, loosening at the tie around my neck as I felt like it was physically and mentally choking me.

Or is that the feeling of signing them divorce papers barley an hour ago?

I stopped walking as I reached the living room, looking around the room that you use to decorate for every holiday ever as a married couple. Your empty wine glass on the coffee table with your lipstick stain that I haven’t moved since you left that night. So many nights ago.

The fireplace crackling as I ran my hand through my chaotic curls, exhaling as I walked into the kitchen connected to the living room. The room that I was so use to seeing you in, baking whatever you thought of, the food you use to make when either one of us was sick.

“Fuck me,” I shook my head as I tried to get you out of my head, but you haunted every place I stepped foot in. I dug my fingernails into my palm as I clenched my fist, grabbing a bottle of whiskey of the island bench as I shuffled up the stairs to our bedroom.

I walked past pictures of us in picture frames, my gaze not flicking to them as I get taking swigs from the whiskey bottle. I kicked my bedroom door open—which, was once ours— and collapsed on the bed.

My body turning and yearning for a sleep that probably will never come, not since you left. The truth is, I haven’t gotten a single full nights sleep since.

I managed to pull my phone out from my back pocket, putting it front of my face as I turned it on. Swiping through all my contacts till I found your contact and your beautiful contact picture that made my heart physically ache. My thumb hovered over the call button before pressing it, putting the phone to my ear as my head rested on your pillow where you use to lay.