Again, I woke with another headache; yesterday’s blankness, time missed, the sense of unknowing (What did I do? Who did I see? What did I say?) flooded my desire to pull up the sheets, knowing that staying here delayed the inevitable, perpetuating the pain.
“You ok?” his voice steadying me, water glass headed towards my clenched hand. “Hey,” those blue eyes imploring, “how is it this morning?”
Dry mouthed, I reached for his arms, unnerved by my memory’s blankness. “Brain pain,” was all I could say, curving into him, relieving him of the glass, downing the contents with practiced slowness.