Watching rain on the window

Kevin had stopped by me and Matt's house first. It'd be almost unbearably to walk into our bedroom, to smell his lingering cologne, knowing I wouldn't have his head next to mine on pillow. Part of me knew I should feel more betrayed, angry. But I just didn't have more among the sadness. Though a vile thought would still occur every now and then randomly. Like weather or not I should tear down the wallpaper he'd worked so hard to put up in the kitchen. Or weather I should throw him cloths into the street. But this was technically his house. I walked over to the window and opened it. If it had been raining before it was a torrential pour now. The trails slipped and slided over each other on the window and down below huge puddles formed. I could feel the rain splatter on the windowsill and onto my hair and face. But I didn't really care.

“Almost done?” Kevin shouted from the living room, snapping me from studying the rain.

“Almost” I yelled back, moving towards the chest of drawers, pulling this and that. I knew how to live on limited wardrobe and so didn't over pack. I grabbed the toiletries I needed from the en suite and walked back into the living room, closing the window before I did.

Kevin drove me to his in silence, we both knew I had nowhere else to go. I wanted to say thanks but it seemed hollow and pointless. A lot of stuff was starting to seem that way. Kevin carried my bag into the living room.

“There's a spare room down the corridor, second left. Help yourself to food and drink. Sorry to leave you like this, but there's a meeting I can't miss. Take care okay?” he asked, concern etched eyes watching me. I nodded, forcing a smile. I watched his back as he opened the door and left. He lived in a typical loft apartment with wall high windows in the living area. Up two stairs behind the sofa was a kitchen area and beyoud that a hallway. I recalled Kevin directions and threw my pitiful bag of things on the spare bed. But as I headed out of the corridor I passed by the first left door and noted it was a bathroom. Then looked at the closed right door. I knew it was rude to snoop but I was curious. Kevin bedroom had a few cloths lying on the floor but other than that it looked neat and untouched. I'd always noticed the black circles and knew he worked hard but it looked as if he barely slept aswell. I shut the door behind me quietly and walked into the kitchen. I didn't feel very hungry or thirsty but the wine bottle called me anywhere. I grabbed it, twisted the top off and didn't bother grabbing a glass. I took a seat on the sofa and looked out the windows, seeing the clouds and rain and occasional lighting from a high vantage point. I wondered if the full blown storm was a result of my own churned up anger. Because as the alcohol numbs my heartache I could feel the anger wanting to take over. I wanted to march back to his house, our house. And demand he explain just what he thought he was doing.  

The End

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