You had a good night.

You laughed.

You drank.

You ate.

You forgot.

You get home.

The porch light blinds you as you stumble into the driveway, over the uneven drain cover and the gravel.

You unlock the front door, checking to the right to ensure no one is hiding in the bushes ready to pounce.

You enter the dark house.

You step over the random sock, school bag, shoes and other abandoned items in the lobby.

You put your keys in the cupboard.

The house is dark and quiet.

There is nobody here.

At least there doesn’t appear to be.

You turn on a light.

Nothing.

You check the phone for messages.

Nothing.

You check the back door to make sure it was locked during the time you were away.

It was.

Therefore, no one should be here.

You look at your mobile now that it has reception.

No one contacted you.

You turn the lights off and double check the doors.

And hang your coat.

And make your way to the bedroom.

It’s how you left it.

No one has been here.

No one else lives here.

You check your mobile.

Nothing.

No one knows where you are.

No one cares where you are.

No one is here anymore to welcome you home.

No one is here to give you a hug.

Or make you a cuppa.

You.

Are.

On.

Your.

Own.

Welcome to your life. Living in the dream you bought with someone else. And now that person can’t wait until you hurry up and disappear. Quickly. Get on, move out, go away. FUCK OFF.

I can’t spend it while you’re still living it.

And then your phone bleeps.

Are you ok?