There's a Vacant Sign That's Hanging High on a Noose Over Your Home

Wake up, the House is on Fire

The comforting scent of warm vanilla flowed through my nostrils as I spooned her; her luscious black dreadlocks dangling freely in front of my face, and I instinctively pushed my body further into hers. Her chest rose up and down peacefully, and as I watched her, a surge of fatigued, grateful tears formed in the backs of my eyes. I was so glad she had finally been able to sleep through the night.

I blinked, relieving my tired eyes of the immense pressure they bore, and swallowed quietly; letting the salty water that had accumulated fall down and dissipate into the pillow like grains of sand in the ocean.

Oh, the ocean. My happy place. She was my happy place. Life with her was just like surfing. She was this overwhelmingly captivating and cosmic ocean that I was scared shitless to venture out into because I knew I'd never be worthy enough to ride her waves, but I dove in heart-first anyway. Thank God I did, too. I don't ever want her to stop carrying me far away.

Eyes closed, I smiled and ran a hand down her soft curves and underneath her pajama bottoms into the small of her back, letting my fingertips dance along the waistband of her black lace panties. Her sweet smell and warm, soft skin ignited my senses in all the right ways. I needed her more than air. My fingers burned with playfulness as my hand found its way further down the immaculate curve of her butt. Slipping my index finger underneath the top of her panties and gliding them down slowly, I inhaled shakily in anticipation for the prize that awaited me just below.

There it was. A wet sensation graced my fingertips as I explored her so tenderly, and I kissed her neck; whimpering against the spot of moisture where my lips just were as my every last clear thought fell victim to exquisite ecstasy.

Reaching back up to pull the covers down, I winced when I saw my hand. The harsh sight of fresh blood on my fingers felt like a thousand tiny knives in my eyes and heart, and Jesus, along came those tears again with a vengeance, but this time, they fell from sadness.

"That's not supposed to be there," I thought, my mind racing. "She was going to test again this morning. She was late."

I felt my own blood run cold as I buried my face in her neck; squeezing my eyes shut so as to try and erase the heaviness of what I'd just seen, like a young child would its mother after seeing some kind of ferocious monster.

And this blood on my hand was the testament to our own ferocious monster. Except we had no one to comfort us except each other, and even then, those efforts sometimes seemed futile. We had no one to assure us this was all just a dream, because we had been living this very real nightmare for the last six years.

I kept my eyes closed tightly as I rolled onto my back, feeling defeated, and in the stillness, I swore I could hear the unopened pregnancy test laughing at me jeeringly from inside the bathroom.

Sniffling repulsively, I forced myself off the bed and dropped to my knees in a heap of chaotic emotions on the floor. I'd never really been sure there was a god, and our struggle to get pregnant over the last six years had only increased my doubts. But if there was a god, I was in the perfect position to pitifully beg and bargain with him. Then again, me bargaining for a miracle had become just like breathing air. I found myself pleading this mysterious, almighty man who apparently loves and cares for us more than anything to just please let this time be the time it happens every time Adie and I made love. Still, six years later, here we were: empty-handed. Empty-hearted.

After wallowing in my weakness for a few moments, I stood up, baring my best effort at a smile, and made my way into the bathroom, turning on the tub for Adie. The steam from the hot water embraced my face comfortingly and soothed my cheeks that stung from being caked in salty tears. Then I tossed in some of her favorite lavender bath beads and watched them dissolve into bright purple bubbles. As I inhaled their soft, naturally healing aroma, for just a moment, my mind was quiet.

With the tub still running, I turned and lifted the nozzle to the sink, lathering my blood-stained hand with foamy soap and letting the warm water trickle down it; the brashness of that morning's visual dancing menacingly in my head.

Soft footsteps from behind soon alerted me, and in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, the loving gaze of the best thing that's ever happened to me took my breath away, and in that moment, I hurt no longer. Her kind, dark brown eyes captured my hazel ones as I turned around to face her, and I reached my arms out to hold her as she pressed her quivering lips against mine.

"I'm so sorry, baby," she whispered, running her fingers tenderly along the back of my neck, and I brushed my thumbs across her cheeks to catch the tears that rolled down heavily, feeling my eyes burn again as my own tears resurrected themselves.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Adie. You've done nothing wrong. Do you understand me?" Weary eyes locked on mine, she nodded slowly, and I drank in her extraordinary strength and beauty before pulling her so close that I could feel her heart beat against my own. "I love you so much," I whispered, cupping her face and kissing her forehead gently as we held one another afloat in the sea of despair that threatened to drown us once again.