Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder: Forgotten Pleasure

It had been over 18 months since their last embrace. The first three months were the hardest, probably because of the lonely winter evenings that enhanced the gloom. Then came the spring and some hope. She started going out of the house and distracted herself with a new hobby; gardening! Days looked better when she saw not through time but by the growth of her plants. 

He on the other hand was trapped between national duties and dwindling internet connection. The recruitment was sudden, something the couple hadn't anticipated. Gradually coming to terms was the only way to pull through. But was that enough? In her mind, it was not on many occasions. She wanted the pain to go away. Someone even saw her crying at work once or twice. 

Finally, a messiah arrived in the form of a shiny little blue bottle, Blumoon. Designed to knock you out instantly and have good dreams, the bottle had found its way to all big celebrities, politicians. The bottle now rested in her hands. But as the name suggests, it was not meant to be taken frequently. She realised after the first experience how much her pain had grown, the euphoria needed to last longer and so the abuse began. 

Whenever anxiety rose a pill was popped, bottles were emptied within months. Unaware of the coping mechanisms adopted by her, he realised she was forgetting things they had done. Soon he realised there was virtually no communication between them. What had happened? Did she finally give up? It had been a long time, but she looked so happy. Thoughts crashed in his mind, after all, she was his pill in all the darkness around him. Just when it was getting too much for him, a notice came. He was summoned home at last. 

She had entered the phase in which life without Blumoon seemed impossible. A pill was about to be popped but the bell rang. Disgruntled by the sudden intrusion, she opened the gate quickly. He stood there with arms wide open and a big smile. It faded the moment he realised it was not met with the same joy and conviction. Who are you? she asked. The words made his heart sink. His worst fears were being realised. Could this be possible? She stood there staring blankly at the man who clearly looked as though he had seen a ghost. She invited him for a cup of tea. He entered. His pictures were still in the house. What was going on? he thought. He saw the bottle at the kitchen counter and put two and two together. 

In his heart, he knew the solution. He needed a strong memory to resurface; their last embrace. And with just that, she was pushed to reset mode. Now it looked as though she had seen the ghost. She lost her control and sense of calm. Was this true or merely an illusion caused by the nasty bottle she carried for so long? He used another trick he learned when he was away. With that, she fell asleep. His only fear was her inability to recognise him. 

At last, she woke, with him next to her. He was there, he was really there. Finally, they embraced again. It felt real. Almost real to her.