Without the Power

The days you have to live on with the one you can't bare to know any other way to live. Inspired by the candle light remix of Casacada's Every Time We Touch.

Your a ghost in this desolate world I'm forced to live. A memory I can't bare to believe is just a memory. I look out a window and see nothing of interest. Just a city living a useless life. There's nothing out there for me. It's all grey, it's all ordinary. 
  You're gone.
 I pull away the sheets, hating their chill, numb from the cold, and the air feels a little warmer, but only because it's so polluted and wrong.
  You're gone. But I still need you here.
 My hand drifts to the post, so I can stand, and pant at the effort it takes; my chest heaving from the weight, the pain. the pain that I cant feel you anymore.
 I dreamt of your smile last night, your lips parting enough to show through your teeth, bright and happy. The way your hand would trail over new things you saw, eyes wide in wonder and curiosity. The sound of you laughing at me, or the quiet sounds you would say, just to cheer me up. I felt your many intense gazes; watching me, the sun, or even the grass.
 And I had to wake up. Wake up with tears dried on my cheeks.
Because you're not coming back.
 A cough strangles my throat, forcing me to remember to breathe, even when it hurts. Because that's what you told me to do.
 I make it towards the bathroom, flipping the lightswitch and looking into the mirror. Feeling nothing.
Seeing nothing.
There's nothing to notice.
 I run my hands under the faucet, it's water turning hotter and hotter, but it doesn't feel the same. I don't feel that spark, not like the one I had with you. You would hold mine, pulling me further, further into the unknown. Further into you. And I felt fire, I felt the sky flying past me, and your heart beating just as quick as mine. The water burns; the steam covering the mirror with clumsy fingers.
 I shut it off and look at the sodden, red things that I didn't recognize. They didn't look the same as the ones that would hold you tight, push you so close to me that I could wipe away your tears, so close that it would make me feel safe.
 But they're not the things I see now.
 There's a slight hum of pain under these wrinkled things; a slight cavern in my chest. I can feel the wind nip through its cracked edges, widening further in the cold.
 I look back up into the reflective glass, forcing the eyes to look back. They see the careless, stupid person, someone not worthy of anyone like you were.
  And yet you had wanted me.
  For that small moment in time, you had wanted me too.
 The glass shatters and breaks, sending the reflection to multiply, spreading and scattering. Slicing my arm and tearing at my hand. But the eyes don't go away; only follow me as I scream against the bathroom floor, tugging my hands through my hair, pulling, scraping whatever I can, just to try to numb the pain. Just to try to forget, forget that you're gone. The million of eyes only scrunch up, their reflection blurring for a moment, and duplicate the saltwater droplets that fall to pieces on the floor.
 Here, in this too white room, with the cold bracing against my body like a wind to a mountain, reflections pooling in shards along my body and the tiles, I see nothing. Noting but someone unable, someone so lost with no ability to get you back. To feel your lips against mine, or your body warming me through to the bone, or feel the heart that used to be yours, beating so steady, so pure; I am without the power to let you go. 

Author's Note

Very much inspired by a beloved pair of characters, and the song: Every Time We Touch by Cascada (candle light remix.) I know it's an old song, but it's still so beautiful.
Hope you liked it, and tell me what you thought!

Reviews

[Who Cares]

Wonderful piece, imagery was vivid. You made thi speice very enjoyable with simple things. It flowed and there were not any major grammatical errors that I noticed. Nice job

[Rhea752]

this was amazing the descriptions captivated me the whole time the pain echoes in your words keep it up

[bill]

Wonderful, Ripple. Excellent description of the irreparable damage of loss. Keep up the good work.