Without him

I stepped into the empty elevator and filled my lungs with the sweet smell of caramel coffee. With both hands, I held a steaming hot cup, as if precious gold. The sun had risen for me alone, nestled in my bed. I, then, embarked on a new day with its many promises. Yet, I, a slave to routine, did not expect to depart from the ordinary magic of the mundane.

Immediately, I pivoted to face the elevator door and saw my reflection in the glass mirror on the ceiling. I pressed the lobby button and waited inside. Suddenly, the elevator door opened and a man whom I have no words to describe peered into my eyes.

“Going down?” he flirtatiously inquired, showing a charming, chipped-tooth smile. He winked.

“We’re headed in the same direction,” I said. He was taken aback, but refreshed.

“Room for two?” he asked, noticing the lobby button lit.

I made room for this stranger. First, in my heart, then, my head. His cologne was pine fresh. His clothes were sleek – white and black. He adjusted his tie and tugged at it, as it slid left and right around his neck, all the while partially hidden by his crisp collar.

I twisted my ankle trying to find the right words. My heels still made me no match for this gentleman, who towered above me. There were mountains to climb. We reached the bottom floor and made our escape through the lobby door.

It was time for an introduction. We exchanged names and numbers. We shared common interests: hiking, abstract art, and comedy. Our love of photography then sent us to many a museum.

When it was time for us to walk down the aisle, our picture-perfect moment was attended by friends and family. We said our vows. We danced to live music. We cut the cake. He gave me the night sky. Our lips pressed together ignited a passion so bright that it could guide, like a starry constellation. We traversed great distances by each other’s side.

I say this in memory of him, “He was my dream come to life.”

Without him, I sigh.