Empty Spaces

The Doctor was here visiting for 10 nights, right after his trip to the UK. Poor feller was having jet leg and sleeping at odd hours following UK timing. That was a blessing in disguised, him sleeping while I was away for work during the day time and both of us together when he was awake. Not sure if he spent most nights observing me sleep.

We stayed in a service apartment, Princess Pei Pei's service apartment. She was kind enough to loan it to us to use while she was away in France (hopefully) flirting away with non-housewife-beater-looking European men. The place had all the necessities we needed bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living hall. I practically moved out of my Red Boudoir and moved in with The Doctor. There we started our life of living together.It was a blissful 10 nights.

I wake up in the morning to prepare to go to work, he was already up making breakfast and lunch box for me.

I come back from work, he was making dinner.

I wash the dishes, he was playing with Happy Aquarium.

We sat on the couch, watched the tv and talked about how our day was and what we did.

Time for bed and the day starts all over again.

Soon enough, our 10 nights ended and we said our goodbyes in the airport. It was a sad occasion but no worries, we will meet again next month for Christmas and the New Year. Goodbyes are never easy though.

I went back to the apartment again to pick up some things I left behind. The place, even though identical in every way, felt very lonely and quiet. Only traces of memories of two people cheerfully talking and laughing linger as I stood at the door looking into the apartment. Flashes of images of The Doctor standing in front of the stove cooking delicious dinner. Everything I touched resurfaces the memories when he was here but I continued packing.

As I left the apartment I thought I heard The Doctor said, "Have a good day at work dear". I turned but all I saw was an empty space. I closed the door and left the apartment.

You know you love me.
Queer Ranter


William said...

Only traces of memories? I'm sure there are other "traces". :P

Queer Ranter said...

William: I checked. The cleaners have cleaned all of them up. Even the ones on the ceilings. :P

san said...

I am proud to be the oven for you two lovebirds! All you need to make that life complete is a gurgle of happy laughters and bubbles =D

Queer Ranter said...

San: Sounds like a/few bottle of champagne!