Cupboard Doors

        Phil had to close the cupboards by himself now. He was alone. Sometimes he would just sit on the cold kitchen tile and stare, stare at the open cupboards. He would close his eyes really tight, and pray. Pray that when he opened them, Dan would be there. Dan, with fake disappointment because laughter always filled his eyes. Fake disappointment because Dan loved Phil's quirks, and Phil loved Dan's. Fake disappointment because closing the cupboard doors became natural in the morning. 

        But now, when Phil opens his eyes, the cupboard is open. It has been since the day Dan had to leave. It wasn't a matter of why Dan had to leave, all Phil knows is that Dan was there and now he isn't. 

        Dan's bedroom door has been closed since he had to leave. Dan's crap isn't all over the hallways. Dan's laughter no longer echos through the open doors. Dan's constant humming and tapping that used to make Phil so angry is replaced by silence, and it's left a void in Phil that he can't describe in any way other than the feeling of gone. Dan is gone and Phil feels gone, which makes Phil wonder which is worse. 

        With Dan not being there, Phil doesn't know how to do anything. He can't remember how to make dinner for one. He can't remember what sitting on a couch by oneself feels like. He doesn't remember what the sound of only one pair of footsteps sounds like at 2 in the morning. He doesn't remember what the sun looks like when it's not shining over the body of another person after waking up. 

        And now he has to remember. He's forcing the memories into himself like a poison that needs to be taken for life to go on. He restrains himself from reaching out in the morning, punishing himself when he slips and desperately searches for the warm body he knows is supposed to be there. He stops making enough coffee for two people, then quits drinking it all together. There are too many mugs in the cupboard. More should be gone each morning, two more should be sitting in the sink, waiting to be  cleaned later that night by 2 hands, and only 2 because the other is intertwined under the sink. 

        He starts opening the windows, letting the outside world hear his tears, his screams, his pleas. He wishes someone would hear, but he knows that only one person deserves to hear. The neighbors have stop complaining about the old noises that consumed the air at night, and start whispering about the new ones. The cries of disparity have almost become to much, so they choose to block out the sound with music and idle gossip.

        Phil lives in his own world, mentally and in reality. He moves things around to try and fill the empty space, but sometimes it just doesn’t work. He sits for hours on end, staring at the couch, willing himself to wake up from this horrible nightmare. He sits for hours, waiting for Dan to save him. 

“Please come back”

But Dan won't. So, Phil decides, he won't either.