7:14 - A True Story

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This post has stuff about a previous relationship. My perspective has changed

7:14

I just woke up. My shoulder hurts. I’m lying face down in my bed. The lights are off. The blinds are open but it’s dark outside. A quick glance at the alarm clock and it’s 7:14. I overslept. But where’s Mary? The bed is made and she’s not beside me. Why didn’t she wake me up? I don’t think she’d let me miss work. I don’t remember her telling me goodbye this morning. Wait…it’s night. Weird. When did I fall asleep? I don’t remember falling asleep.

Retrace my steps: last thing I remember was feeling bad that the kids were ruining our time together. I snipped at Mary and then came to the bedroom. I must have fallen asleep. She must be out in the living room with the kids.

Peel myself off the bed: my face and left shoulder have somehow managed to become lodged in our mattress. My head isn’t on the pillow. I’m strewn across the bed like I was thrown there. I feel drugged. My shoulder hurts, but I guess it’s just from laying weird. I’m not drunk. Float to the door in a non-drunken state. I’m so groggy. Watch my hand grasping the handle on the door and gently tugging at it.

I’m in the hallway. The house is quiet. It’s empty. Wait. We just don’t have a lot of furniture. No kids. No Mary. Hello? Mary? You here?

I’m at the door to the garage, opening it. Mary’s car isn’t here. Where is she?

Call me

I’m in the kitchen. A simple Post It note on the counter in Mary’s handwriting: “Call Me.” Did she take the kids? I didn’t think our tiff was that bad. In fact, it was barely anything. Where’s my phone? How can I call her if she has my phone? Oh it’s in my backpack.

I’m back in the bedroom. Fumble to the speed dial key. She’s on the phone: “hello…” She’s mad at me. It’s been hours now. I slept for hours. She must have gotten the kids ready for bed. She must have fed them alone. I guess she cleaned the house? Where is she now? I had so much to do tonight. Why was I asleep? Why did she let me sleep? She’s at the library. She’s coming home. Oh look, there are some chips on the bed.