Escape. Life has gotten too unexpected, too hard. I need an escape. He died. He left me here alone. It wasn’t in the plan. He is dead. Days have passed, and my bed is now empty. It doesn't feel real. Escape.

Standing next to his stupidly big truck at a gas station, I fill the tank with insanely priced gas. In the back seat sits a backpack with barely anything in it. My need to get out overwhelmed any rational thought. He’s dead. It’s my truck now. I take a deep breath to stop the tears. Escape.

Driving. Driving with no goal. Driving to get away. Away from loneliness. Away from the calls. I turn off my phone. I need to stop the incessant ringing. People are worried. They “are here for anything I need, not just saying it but really,” but what can they do? Turn back time? Change the fact that he’s gone? What is it that they think they can do? I need to escape.

City freeways turn into inland highways. Sparse surroundings become dense with trees. He should be here. Fuck him for not making the right choices. Fuck me for not pushing him harder. Escape.

Hours and miles have passed beneath me without music, words, or sound other than the truck's tires on the pavement. 

I left alone before the sun was up, and now I realize it’s about to set. Where am I? I had no plan. I could keep driving, but where? Does it matter? I’ve escaped.

Pulling off into a hiking area, I park. The realist in me screams to find shelter, but my grief has me parking and wandering into the wildlife. Escape.

It’s summer. The heat back home was unbearable. Here, it’s a loving blanket around me. I walk through trees, following a small dirt path. My mind is silent. My mind is screaming with anger. Nothing makes sense. Hours away, and I’m still looking for an escape.

The path leads me to a gentle river. The water is slow and trickles louder than my mind can comprehend. Without thought, I walk to the edge, kick off my shoes, and discard all of my clothes. I step in. The rocks are slippery with green algae. I move slowly to the middle of the stream and lay back, letting the water take me where it dictates. 

My life is not over. I’m not looking for an end. I just need the void to be filled. I need to escape from his absence. 

Floating. The water holds me and guides me. I see his huge hands in my mind running over my body. I feel tickling and lapping, causing tears to run down my cheeks into the water that frames my face. 

I slide my hands down, following the swell that surrounds me. I hear his voice in my head. His playful dirty words. My hands run over my heavy breast. Squeezing, pulling. Down my waist and between my legs. Thoughts of his hands. Thoughts of his tongue. Thoughts of him with me. 

I run my fingers through my lips, my moisture thicker than the water around me. Wildlife tickles my limbs as I float past. I focus on him. My fingers rub the spot he knew so well. The feeling makes me flood with happiness and sadness. 

I know he isn’t here, but I hear him. I know he isn’t here, but I feel him. My fingers rock up and down my core. My nipples tighten. My body knows what it wants, and my mind gets lost in thinking he is with me. Rubbing, pushing, pinching. I groan deeply. My fingers are working, my mind searching, and I don’t feel alone. A caress along my jaw. My eyes clamped shut, not wanting the allusion to disappear. Rubbing harder. Body tensing. Deep breath. Overwhelming surge. I cum harder than ever before. I keep rubbing, and it doesn’t stop. I feel loved. I feel whole. I feel like I'm not alone until I crest.

I float while silent sobs shatter my soul. The world returns. The need to get back to the truck. The need to handle things at home. I am grateful. I got to be with him one last time after that unexpected morning. Tears run down my cheeks as I walk back. Nothing will ever be the same, but I got to say goodbye. Goodbye to the man I loved. The man I married. It's time to start figuring out who I am without him.