Member-only story
Death, Space, Reentry, Work
Covid wasn’t the worst thing to happen. It was just one more tragedy to handle.
That day I was coming home from some place I can’t remember. Probably work since it was the evening. Took my shoes off at the door. I noticed she was still sleeping. I felt sorry for yelling at her the night before. She tends to sleep off her pain, especially the kind from me. I hopped over to my computer like I always did, and waited for her to wake up to see how she was doing. Eventually the door creaked. I turned my head over and saw her slinking down the tiny apartment hallway. I gave her a hug, and brought her over to the futon couch. It must have been only a moment before she told me that she tried to kill herself last night. My eyes just flooded in an instant.
“What? Why?” I said as my voice broke. “I’m — I’m so sorry.”
She told me with a straight face what happened like she was listing off some facts. She took all of the Gravol and pain killers she found in our medicine case. And also some anti-histamines that I used to help me sleep. She remembers learning in med school how people who too much Gravol can die. In the morning she woke up and saw all this vomit on the wall, calmly went to get some towels to clean it up before slinking back in bed. I could see it. Even though I wasn’t there I could see how she would wipe the walls clean, hiding the evidence…
