Ghost Of You (Camren)

One

Lauren had been battling one of the hardest and most painful times of her life. Every day was the same for her.

Her life was like those movies where the day keeps repeating itself over and over again.

Every day she woke up hours past noon due to her restless nights of sitting on the balcony, staring up into the night sky at the moon with tears pooling down her face like a waterfall, because that's what it seemed like. The tears never seemed to end, just like a waterfall never stops running down.

People stop crying when they feel numb. Feeling numb is not being able to feel anything at all, but for Lauren it was different. No matter how much she cried, she never stopped feeling every bad emotion at once.

She couldn't feel numb when the only good thing in her life had been ripped away from her in the blink of an eye; faster than she could even comprehend it.

So, every night, when Lauren finally manages to fall asleep, she dreams about her. Every. Single. Time. Sometimes it feels like she actually comes to her because it's always so vivid; like she's there having a conversation with Lauren like how they used to.

And every day, hours past noon, Lauren wakes up angry because she can never seem to dream long enough for her to tell her that she'll be okay; that she'll be just fine.

And she wakes up with dry, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes in a cold, empty bed in a quiet apartment that used to be so full of life.

She had only ever been able to sleep on her side of the bed since. The smell of strawberry shampoo still somehow, but thankfully, lingering on the pillow next to her. Lauren surely wouldn't know what to do if the smell was gone.

She didn't think she'd ever be able to lay on the other side. It would always be reserved. The only thing she could do was imagine that she was lying right next to her with their faces inches apart, just like how it used to be, while she drifts off to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

And just like every day, she looks over at the empty spot on the bed and wishes that it were never to be left empty, that things should not have turned out like they did because God or whoever the hell runs this stupid world should not have let that happen and then she sighs, gets up from her spot and slowly trudges to the kitchen.

And again, just like every day, when she walks into the kitchen her eyes trail to the reserved coffee cup that was only ever used by her. Although faded, it even still had the same lipstick stain that she had worn.

Lauren would never let herself or anyone use that coffee cup ever again, but she'd always keep it.

She looks away because she can't stand to cry right now. Not when she just woke up from another night of crying until she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore.

She decides to just drown it all out, or try, at least because that's all she can do. Everything she's ever done was for her and it'll probably remain that way.

She makes herself a cup of coffee to wake her up and maybe get her through the day, or what's left of it anyway.

While she's waiting for the coffee, she looks around at the, now, lonely apartment.

Her kitchen and living room are connected, so she can see all of the vast space that lies in front of her.

She walks slowly from in-between the island and the kitchen counter into the living room, looking around at every inch of the space that was designed by the other, because somehow she had better taste in decor than Lauren ever did, which was surely a surprise to many. Lauren let out a soft, sad laugh at that thought for obvious reasons.