My baby’s gone to Bali and I miss him terribly, so unbelievably much that each time I think of the hours stretching out ahead of me till the day he gets back, tears well up in my eyes and a lump forms in my throat. Has loneliness gotten too difficult to bear now? I thought it would just be the initial pain of separation but it gets worse each day. Maybe I am just prone to melodrama, like he says. It’s so quiet without him around. I speak to nobody, not a soul, save for today, when I screamed while killing a cockroach. Cleaned, vacuumed, mopped, dusted, ironed, washed…and there is still time leftover. My toothbrush looks so lonely in the glass. I miss the clutter of his stuff under the medicine cabinet, the shirts that never have their cuffs rolled out before they are thrown into the laundry basket, the glimpse of his face in the mirror in the dining room as he walks towards the bedroom. The dishes in the sink. Now it is so clean and dry and empty. The way I am so attached to him makes me feel too vulnerable for my own liking. I now know that if he ever leaves me for good…

This is different from the times when he went out and came back late. I can’t seem to do anything really. Time creeps by. Now I know what it is like to come home to a truly empty house. There is nothing, nobody, waiting for you and the wind just sweeps through the house, with you in it.

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