Colors and Promises

It was the coldest winter night of the year, I could hear him coughing in the toilet. Despite having to waste my precious 3 hours of sleep, I reached for the bedside lamps and turned it on. Oh good Lord my head was spinning as soon as the pupil of my eyes contracted. I put my face in my hands, massaged my temples. I could still hear his loud coughs, almost tearing up his throat. Quickly, I jumped to my feet, grabbed my hair band and tie my hair into a pony tail; the way he always loves it.

"Honey you're okay?"

Standing in front of the mirror, he had his back to me, his muscular hands were supporting his body weight on the edge of the sink. He was hiding his face on his chest. And he coughed some more. This time it tore my heart instead.

"Does it hurts?" I asked again.

He turned on the tap and let the water run. I leaned on to the bathroom door, praying that I don't collapse myself. He lifted his head up and I thought my droopy eyes were deceiving me. He could see me gasping, covering my mouth with my shaky hands, through my reflection in the mirror. He crouched towards the sink, blood trickled down his nostrils and mouth.

He turned to face me, I could see clearly the blood stains on his favourite pyjama shirt. It felt like my heart was stabbed, my stomach was twisted, my soul was ripped apart. I froze in front of him and tears were pouring down my cheeks. He put a finger to his bleeding mouth and whisper,

"Shh. I'm fine"

Walking slowly towards him, I took off my sweatshirt and held it tight in my right hand, carefully wiping his face. He said thank you through his gritted teeth. His sobbing voice begged me not to cry any more. He promised that he won't let me watch him in pain again and that he said he was sorry he woke me up. When I didn't stop crying, he clamped my hand in his and looked me in the eyes. He said he promised that everything will be fine.

That was a year ago.

I never thought I would lose you that fast. Honey, I will never stop missing you.

******

It has been a while since I last wrote something fictional. Pardon me for lacking the depth or the message to convey. That was just me letting my heart and my fingers to dance freely through this medium, spontaneity took me over. Its dark and its cold over here. Still searching for the warmth and heat to fill the emptiness.

Momken? Sigh.