The sun starts to rise, I gaze at the sky. The beautiful hues of orange and pink stretch out like a masterpiece painted just for me.

I wonder where he is. I wonder what he’s doing. I wonder if he’s happy. I wonder if thoughts of me cross his mind.

I inhale deeply, a lonely steadying breath. I wonder if he is staring at the same sky. My sky. The thought we may sit beneath the same sky provides comfort to my aching heart. It soothes my sorrowful soul. Our connection, our bond, our love was real. Forged in the shadows, our journey, our place, our time lives on. The memories will sustain. They will endure.

My chest tightens and the sharp blade of loss cuts through my broken heart once more. Each fresh puncture pierces through its fragile remains with a ferocity that paralyses my heart, body and mind. I wonder if he feels this pain. I wonder if our sorrow is shared. I wonder if, in grief, we remain united, remain as one.

I stand before the mirror once more. I smooth down my pretty orange dress and adjust my matching ribbons. He preferred pink. There is no more pink now. The colour has faded. I must present to the world now, not to him. He has gone.

I blink and smile knowingly. I am brave. I am bold. I am strong. The world will see what I choose for it to see. The secrets of my heart and soul will remain unseen. The hidden pink of my delicate bra and panties lie shrouded beneath the brassy dress of armour I now wear.

I step from the safety of my sanctuary. Tentatively, I look outside. My eyes blink as I adjust to the light. Adorning my face, a friendly, warm smile. It is my mask, I won’t let it slip. To the outside world I am carefree, content, joyful and sunny. My struggle, my turmoil, my sorrow and darkness are buried. There they must remain.

The world looks different now. I stand alone. I close the door and lock it behind me. I take the key and place it under the doormat. There is no returning to this place. No longer our home. Now no more than a ruin.

I look towards the horizon. I start walking.