“It’s empty…” He stared at the mug in front of him. It was, in fact, empty. Very, very empty.
“Wow, you don’t say? You just drank it, dummy.” His wife was still eating breakfast and reading the news on her phone. Her cup of tea was still full but it had gone completely cold. She liked it that way though.
“Should I refill it?” He was still staring at the mug. He had already drunk with a few cups, yet he didn’t feel like it was enough.
“If you want to.”
He stood up and shuffled to the kitchen counter in his slippers. He took a jar from the shelves where the tea leaves were kept. He opened it and stared at it for another three minutes.
“Did you find it?” His wife asked, not even looking up from her phone. She was posting a few photos of their vacation on Instagram.
“It’s empty too…”
“Then you should buy some more.”
“Yeah, you might be right.”
Then finally his wife put her phone down, chugged down her cup of cold tea in one go, and went to grab her coat. It was cold winter; the snow was thick outside. Before going to work, she gave him a kiss and left.
He was still standing in the kitchen, his eyes looking at the floor. The bitter taste of her kiss still lingered on his lips.
“I forgot she likes her tea without sugar. Weird. I used to like this bitter taste before, too.”
On his way to work, he took the bus. Even though it was crowded, he felt alone. It was 11 am. Strange… he met his wife 11 years ago.
Work went by in a blink. He should have gone home, but the store where they sell the good kind of tea that he liked was outside of town. He thought a little;, his wife wouldn’t be home by 8 pm anyways. He decided to walk.
After a comfortable 1-hour walk, he arrived. He went inside the little store; it wasn’t bigger than his old room. The shop owner sat at the counter tired, he looked like he didn’t want to be there. He didn’t even greet him.
“Is there any of the good kind of tea?”
“No, there isn’t.”
“When will the stock refill arrive?”
“Never. They stopped producing that kind of tea. It was too expensive and only a few people bought it. Too difficult to maintain the production costs.”
“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” And with that, he left.
He was wondering what to do now. He knew that his wife would be waiting for him all night if he didn’t come home. She loved him. She still loved him. She would beg him to come home. But he didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to pretend like the cold sheets were warm. He didn’t want to pretend like he felt safe with her. He didn’t want to tell her his problems. He didn’t want to love her.
“Should I buy some from the other kind of tea I saw the other day?” He thought to himself.
He had been walking for a couple of hours now when he found himself on the rooftop of a high building. Actually, he has never been there. He didn’t even want to be there. Yet, he was there. It felt like the right thing to do. But it only felt like that. He knew how much pain it would cause for her; he knew it all. But he wanted to quit. He wanted to quit everything. So bad. He wanted to love her so bad. Yet, here he was.
It was night time, no one saw him in the dark. No one tried to save him. No one even noticed his pain. He pretended like he was okay. He pretended like everything was fine. But every time someone mentioned her name, he felt soulless.
Her wife would be grieving for a long time, he was sure of that. She would cry so much. She was always a sensitive soul, especially if it was about her pain. She would break into pieces. She loved him dearly, but he didn’t love her anymore.
For him, nothing was left in that mug. They drank it all. Or was there ever tea in it?
“It’s empty. So very empty.”
His heart? His relationship? The mug?
We will never know.
Brandhuber Vivi
