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She stood there,

not sure if this meant everything was over or not.

She wasn't quite sure what to do with the kisses he had left on her knees

or the smell of him that was still woven through her hair.

She thought;

"Quite possibly the hardest part is how cold my hands are now. Empty and alone."

She pulled her feet up onto the bed and tucked her knees under her chin,

her arms wrapped around her legs.

She let her lips gently brush the skin where his had been only moments ago.

Closing her eyes she let out a breath of air

and let herself tip towards her pillow in exhaustion.

Exhaustion with life and love

and never ending expectations of happiness that kept slipping from beneath her toes.

It was very much like writing with her left hand-

She would assure herself that she could do it,

grasp hold and try to keep things going smoothly and neatly,

but never the less she would lose control

and she would make a mess of things,

again.

For a long time she stared at the door.

Resenting it for letting him go-

for making it as easy on him as turning a knob.