That inexplicable feeling

I watch the clock as minutes go by. My eyes intently follow the movements of the second hand as if time would pass quicker that way. ...Oh dear God, whenever did waiting get so painful? I silently ask myself as I let my head fall onto my arms.

For one terrible moment I had felt angry at him since his food would get cold. And it certainly did - minutes became hours, and before I knew it I woke up the next day from the kitchen table. I rubbed my aching neck and looked around, only to find he was nowhere to be seen. I checked my cell phone in vain. No calls whatsoever. Reluctantly I set off for work. Of course I could have explained the situation, but I could already hear their mocking voices in my head; that it was just normal for men to not show up because of staying out late till the small hours. But they wouldn't understand - my fiancé isn't like that. We are completely frank to each other, and should something come up he would always inform me. Besides, I never really minded if he went out with his friends, so it couldn't be beacuse of bad conscience either.

So suffice it to say I was worried sick when there was still no sign of him. After another long day at work I plucked up my courage and went to the local police station to report him missing. They asked me all kinds of questions, but I knew I wasn't going to be of any significant help. I was just as helpless as a newborn child - besides, I could tell even the police officers didn't take the matter too seriously. After all, my fiancé was a grown-up man and we weren't even a married couple.

A week went by, then two. I was starting to lose taste of living. I just felt... completely empty. As if a candle inside me had been blown out. I simply couldn't comprehend - how can a person just vanish from one's life like that? One moment he's there, and the other... If only I could have done something to prevent this, I think bitterly as tears stream down my face.

After two colourless months I had given up all hope.

Death truly is a very sad thing, I know that of all people. But a person close to you disappearing is one step worse. You live in complete ignorance - not knowing whether the one you love is alive or not. And even if the person was alive... Well, you can never know if they're happy or suffering.

Now I am just trying to live one day at a time. I know the appartment I live in is too big for me, but I cannot bring myself into selling it just yet. It holds too many memories of our mutual moments. I still cannot explain what I feel when I move around in my place - our place. I know life must go on, and yet... How long will it take to heal the wounds? I do not know, and quite honestly I do not really care anymore either. I just continue this ghostlike life of mine as long as I can take it.

On a Tuesday afternoon three weeks later my doorbell rang. With uneasy steps and a strengthening premonition I went to open the door. Outside stood two police men. Putting my hand on my mouth to suppress a sob I waited for the words I knew were about to come.

"Ms. Farley, I regret to inform you your fiancé was found dead this morning."

'So it's finally over' is my only coherent thought as the man's words start to get distant in my ears.


A/N: There you have it, then.. To enlighten the background a bit, this isn't entirely autobiographical. But yes, I have experienced someone close to me missing, so the theme and the feelings are very familiar to me. It turned out to be a bit too short, but I hope that doesn't matter. How was the language, the story? Please let me know what you think : )