You Will Never See Me Cry - Draft 1 #amwriting

It was pre-dawn, just. The birds had started gossiping outside the window and there was a gentle 'hhh-hhh' breathing from the peaceful body laying warm and content next to her. Her head was filling the silence with a ceaseless twittering of thoughts, ideas, worries, regrets, ambitions, fears. She had been trying to quiet the cacophony and go back to sleep for an hour now, but like the birds outside, her mind had too much to say.

Numbly, she got up, grabbed her tired, threadbare dressing gown and tiptoed out of the room so as not to wake her lover. She would make a hot drink, grab a pen and paper and start trying to get some of the noise out of her head. Where to start. When the depression kicked in she found it hard to think straight. The world seemed a dull and joyless place, the birds sang out of tune.

Her peppermint tea, which usually filled her with a delicious cooling sensation today tasted like murky green sand. The sun was peeping in through the blinds, but all she could see was the grey layer of dust gathered on the dark wooden slats. Another job that needed doing. not today though. it was too much to ask of her today. Today she would make a start by just... getting it all out of her head.

So. Where to start. She stared blankly at the page, noticing that the table still needed wiping from last night's dinner. Another job. Later. Back to the page. She was holding a pen. Her fingers were wrinkled. When had that happened? Had they always been like that? The remnants of last week's nail varnish stared at her without comment. Last week had been a good week. She had done her hair, washed every day, even painted her nails the colour of the summer sky. Now the remaining blue chips just felt sad, like the tips of her fingers had been covered by the same dusky pink clouds that seemed to fill her heart, leaving no space for feeling.

Where. To. Start. 

Still the page was empty. A tear rolled down her cheek. 'oh' she thought. 'That, again' as another followed sluggishly down the other cheek. This was too much, she realised. She had taken on too much today. She didn't have the energy to assemble the letters into words in her mind, and then tell her mind to tell her hand what those words were, to make her hand pick up the pen and put the letters into the shape of the words on the page. 

She would go back to bed.

She climbed the stairs. Carefull not to disturb the slumber of her companion, she wiped away her tears. 'no, you will never see me cry' she thought to herself as she lifted the leaden duvet, and oozed limply back on to the mattress. 'you will never see me cry' she thought as a fresh wave of silent tears escaped to the welcoming embrace of the pillow, revealing a fresh hollow inside her.