The Night Before He Died

For some reason it's been on my mind for days so maybe blogging about it will let it rest...

The last night Mike was alive keeps replaying in my mind. It was a Saturday. As usual I went to bed alone. I was asleep before he ever came to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like someone was staring at me. Was I dreaming? 

I woke up in a panic. He was sitting on the bed over me really close. I could feel his shallow breath. He was stroking my hair and face. It was really unusual. Not something I can recall him ever doing. I could see his face by the moonlight shining in our bedroom window. He was crying. His eyes were hollow. It's as if he wasn't there. I remember being scared. But then, for some reason I turned toward him and began comforting him. He never said a word. Nor did I.

 I knew that sex calmed him down. For whatever reason, if nothing else out of fear, I complied. 

I don't know how long he sat over me or why. It replays in my mind daily. It was so out of character for him. He wasn't an affectionate person and he wasn't even speaking to us more than a yes or no here or there. After being married for nearly 11 years I knew all his facial expressions. I thought. I could not identify the look I saw that night.

Was that when he knew he was going to take his life? Was he saying his goodbyes over me? I will never know. That night haunts me. How could I have possibly known?

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