Is this what heartbreak looks like?
I dress in a pair of old leggings and an oversized shirt, pulling my damp hair into a messy bun. It’s a far cry from the periwinkle number I wore yesterday. I look at myself again in the mirror and shake my head.
I need to snap out of this.
I return to the living room, ready to tackle the books again, but my head isn’t in it.
I glance at the clock. It’s late. Maybe sleep will offer some respite, some escape from the tormenting thoughts of Henry.
But even as I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, sleep eludes me. The silence of the apartment feels overwhelming, and the shadows cast by the moonlight feel eerie.
Images of Henry flash through my mind like a slideshow.
His smile.
His beautiful, muscular body.
His silky blond hair.
The way his blue eyes seem to see right into my heart.
Why can’t I erase him from my mind? Pretend I never knew him?
But I know the answer to those questions.
I can’t erase him because another part of me yearns to cling to those memories, even though they torment me.
I look toward the window. A few stars dot the sky, though they’re nothing compared to the vast stars I saw at the ranch.
Still, it’s a peaceful setting. Maybe a walk would help me clear my head. Getting out of this suffocating apartment might offer some relief. It’s dark, but Boulder is safe. Women walk up and down the Pearl Street Mall at all hours.
I quickly pull on a pair of sneakers, grab my keys, and leave the apartment. The cool night air hits my flesh, and I begin to walk, letting the rhythm of my steps clear my mind. I end up on Pearl Street.
The stores are all closed, but the restaurants are still open. Pearl Street Pub and Cellar is bustling. I peek inside and spy a group of med students, a couple of whom I know.
I could go in, join them.
But they’re laughing and smiling. I’d be a dud.
So I pass and continue walking.
Being outside under the moonlight helps. I need to process. To somehow glue together the pieces of my shattered heart so I can begin the rest of my life tomorrow.
I breathe in. Out. In again.
The lights from Pearl Street have dimmed. My footsteps echo against the sidewalk. Too loud in the silence. Hesitation spikes through me, but Boulder is safe. People say that all the time.
But the air feels different. Heavier.
Time to turn back.
And that’s when I hear it.
Footsteps. Louder, heavier than mine.
And they’re behind me.
A chill skates over my neck.
