Work Text:
I hear whistling. Chirping. Too far away to be inside the cabin. Too close to be inside the woods. Just loud enough to wake me up from a very pleasant dream. Makes me wonder if the sound is actually real or if I’m still asleep. It fits perfectly with the scenery and the undertones of the dream, as if, for that brief moment, it was reality in front of me — not just a figment of my imagination. Yes, the birds sitting on the porch are very real. Their whistling and chirping are real. The cream colored sheets covering me are real. The familiar ache in my chest is real.
You are not.
I wake up to an empty spot beside me, as usual. The space you once occupied and that will forever belong to you. I try to fall back asleep so I can feel your hands holding me close for a little bit longer, but even if I close my eyes, I’m still alone once I open them again.
This time, I can’t fall back asleep; so I curl between the sheets, burying my nose deep into the fabric, despaired for something that’s long gone.
Your scent.
It’s like I’m losing you every morning, and not even the winter birds’ singing can ease the pain.
I reach for the left side of my neck, on instinct, fingers hovering above the skin. It still burns. Stings at the lightest touch. Who knew something so beautiful could be the source of so much hurt. Agony.
Still, I would never regret giving myself to you. Even if I keep hurting until the end. I’ll give my last breath knowing I was once yours. I still am.
They keep saying I need to prepare myself for the worst — but the worst has already happened. I cannot think of anything more painful than losing part of your soul. Losing the one who makes you feel complete. Only a few understand how physically devastating it is, the emotional torment of stretching a bond to its limit, of this type of loss.
The reason I should be preparing for what others might think is the worst.
Everyone knows it’s highly unlikely — nearly impossible— for a wolf to survive the loss of its mate. If one is left behind, the bond will still try to reach for its companion. It will try to close the gap between them, try to bring them together once more. It’s the natural order of things. Mates shouldn’t be apart for long, and the bond will ensure they stay together, even after the end. As one cannot survive without the other.
So they keep saying I should prepare, because even if there are cases of wolves who survived the loss of a mate, the bond will try to tug, pull me in, and reunite us.
And it sure does its job, as I see you every night when I fall asleep. Every time I dream. And, if only for a moment, it feels like we’re here, together. Like I have you right beside me. Our scents blending in the sheets, enveloping our bodies; our home — and I feel so safe. I wrap my arms on you and I don’t want to awake.
Because not even the winter birds’ singing can ease the pain.
The pain of waking up each morning to remember that you’re gone.