The empty room

Awakening to find you gone,
I'm wandering from room to empty room,
seeking signs of your recent occupation,
wondering, not where you've gone,
but how you left, and if you'd gotten breakfast...

Heart skips ahead into a deeper wonder --
what if you hadn't been here at all --
and all the boxes, all the books
come tumbling into my imagination,
piling accusations, responsibilities, and questions:
how would I live if you weren't here?
We always have assumed that I'd go first, and so
the question rarely surfaces,
but staring at the empty bed and chair,
I wonder: would I live this way,
if not for you --
and listen as the wind howls its dark answer
through the trees...