If I told you that she wasn’t in my dreams again that night, I’d be lying. Her perfect glowing face haunted me each time I closed my eyes. I tried to replace her face with the image of Avery, but it just wouldn’t stick. It would always just go back to Ashley.

            I turned over to face my nightstand from on top of which bright red numbers told me that it was 3:35 AM.  I internally groaned. I swear to God, that clock read 3: 32 twenty minutes ago. Each part of my body tingled, afraid to sleep because I would inevitably dream of her, and further open the wound that gaped internally. I could vaguely feel Avery’s warm breath on my back, rhythmically brushing me with warm air. I envied the apparent soundness of her sleep. The sureness that she felt in herself. The contentment and confidence she had in me.

             Morning came way too soon. I normally appreciated the melodic chirps of the early birds, but today I wished that I were armed with a bb gun. The rays of sun that peeked through the trees and filtered in through my windows appeared in splotches of light along the floor. They were unwelcome in this comfortable and uniform darkness. Soon though, the light seemed to overtake the dark, and I had no choice but to accept the new day, regardless of how unprepared I was to face it.

            I tried to rise from the bed without waking Avery. For some reason the thought of saying good morning to her as if nothing was wrong made my stomach roll with nausea. It was inevitable though, wasn’t it? I mean, unless I knew exactly what was wrong everything WAS normal…right?

            Unfortunately I didn’t have much time to think it over. My sneaky plan failed, and I felt a soft hand gently grab my wrist as I pushed myself up, beckoning a hymn from the mattress springs. Damn old bed.

            “Morning, Spence” She said mid yawn, eyes still closed, stretching each of her limbs except her hand, which was still clasped around my wrist.

            “Morning” I uttered quickly and quietly, as I slipped my arm away from her and got up. I didn’t look at her as I made my way across the room toward my closet. I flipped idly through my clothes on their hangers, my mind not really on the task of selecting Monday’s outfit, but I had to look occupied.