I promise Sesshomaru and Kagome will end up together.
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Present day
This was the loneliest I’d felt in a really long time. I don’t think I was even this lonely when my father died. Of course I was six and I didn’t really understand the concept of death yet. But this, this was different. It was like a death within me. I felt alien in my skin, in my thoughts. I was no longer my own.
My home for the last three years felt as vacant as my body felt. My heart was strangled; an unrecognizable heap somewhere throbbing against my rib cage. Sometimes it felt like the pit of my stomach. The same place it dropped to and never recovered from over three days ago.
Packing my stuff was automatic and robot like. I didn’t even think about the stuff I was packing. Most of it was in the same place I’d placed it three years ago the day I’d brought it there from my old pad. Not that the stuff never moved but my momma raised me that everything had a place even if you took it elsewhere for a while, once it came back it was put back where it came from.
Not thinking had its advantages though. Things that normally held warm memories stayed locked away in my head blocked out by the strength of my sorrow. Nothing felt warm anymore. Also, I hadn’t turned the heat on for three days, which could attribute more to why I can’t feel my fingers or my toes.
All my boxes and furniture were secured in the back of my beater of a pickup truck covered with the tarp. I didn’t bother looking around the living space of the apartment for a last time. I pulled the single key to the deadbolt out of my pocket, warm from the body heat I didn’t feel under my grey sweater and jeans, and laid the glistening piece of silver on the counter top in the kitchen. Pulling on my heavy jacket and my gloves I locked the door from the inside on my way out closing the door with a quiet click which sounded more like a frame shattering slam to my silent brain. I walked down the same stairs I’d walked down for the last three years, now covered with patches of ice left behind from the snow. Deep down I knew it was the last time I’d ever do so, but once again I didn’t hold that thought for long and finished the trek to the truck. Only this time those tires wouldn’t come back to rest on this particular pavement.
No part of me ever could again.