I stumble out of the bar and feel the two whiskeys I drank work their way through my system.

I’m starting to believe that the universe is evil, or at least has a sick sense of humor. How else can I explain running into someone who looks exactly like Ashley? Except for the color of her hair, that girl was the spitting image of my beautiful wife. She even had the same captivating sapphire–blue eyes!

I know I must have seemed a little crazy to her. But I was at a loss for words. She looked exactly like Ashley! It was like seeing my beautiful wife all over again, in the flesh. Back from the dead! But when I realized it wasn’t her, and her friend threatened me to leave, that wave of loss came crashing down on me once again.

Running into someone who so closely resembles my beloved, departed wife was definitely a cruel, sick joke by the universe.

I miss Ashley so much. My life hasn’t been the same since she passed away.

I head back to my old apartment building. I hope I finally have the courage to unlock the door.

Terry greets me once again and opens the door for me as I enter the lobby. He can tell by the expression on my face that I’m still in no mood to talk. He simply offers me a subdued smile as I pass him and head toward the elevator.

I take the elevator back up to the fifth floor, still unable to get over my encounter in Nick’s bar. Why would the universe introduce me to someone who looks exactly like Ashley, only to have her spurn me away?

The elevator doors open onto my floor, and I begin the long, dreadful walk back to my old apartment.

I don’t blame that girl for thinking I’m crazy.

I am going a little crazy. I have been for the last nine months.

For a brief moment, when I saw that girl in Nick’s bar, I felt like I had been saved. I thought the universe was giving me the chance to have Ashley back in my life, to feel her presence once again. I guess I was mistaken.

You can’t come back from the dead, can you?

I stand in front of the door once again. The numbers 515 are in my sight. With another heavy sigh, I reach into my pocket to remove my keys.

I hope those two whiskeys have finally given me the courage to move forward.

Slowly, I insert my key into the lock and turn.

I gently push open the door and feel another wave of sadness wash over me. As I stand in the doorway, and stare into the darkness of the apartment, I realize I’m staring into the past. I take a deep breath, then a hesitant step forward.

I enter the place Ashley and I called home for five years.

I flip on the light switch.

Everything remains as it was. Nothing has been changed since that day, nine months ago, when I first got the news. For the last nine months, this apartment, our home, has been vacant, lifeless.

I notice a slip of paper on the floor, right next to the front door. I bend down and pick it up. I unfold the paper and see written – in what appears to be a woman’s handwriting – the following message:

I fold the slip of paper back up and put it in my back pocket. Sandy, the realtor, must’ve heard from the other tenants in the building that my unit has been vacant for several months. Since this building is a luxury building with a doorman, there are always interested people wanting to buy an apartment. Sandy called me a month ago and left me a message, asking if I was interested in selling. I never called her back. I guess being a persistent realtor, she even stopped by and slipped this note under my door, in case I happened to come by for a visit.

I know it doesn’t make sense to hold onto this apartment, especially if I never plan on living in it again. But if I sell it, I’ll be saying goodbye to all the fond memories Ashley and I had here. I bought this apartment a month before we were married. As I slowly walk down the hallway, I glance at all the pictures of us adorning the walls. They are reflections of a happier time in my life – when I was excited about the future, and grateful for having such a wonderful woman in my life.

There’s Ashley, looking more beautiful than ever on our surprise trip to Bali.

There we are smiling for the camera at our wedding.

I still remember how lucky I felt that day, when we said our vows.

’Til Death Do Us Part.

I never imagined it would come so quickly.

There were so many dreams we had that were never realized… A family we both wanted but never created because of that stupid car accident.

As I stare at Ashley’s face in all the photos, I think about the girl I ran into at the bar. It’s striking just how similar they both look. The universe was definitely playing a sick joke on me. Not cool.

I walk through the living room and into our bedroom. I stop in the doorway.

The portrait I painted of Ashley on the first day I met her hangs over our bed. Ashley loved it so much that she insisted we place it in our bedroom. She wanted to look at it all the time. She said it made her feel special.

I reluctantly walk into the bedroom and take a seat on the edge of our bed. I grip the comforter with my hands and stare at the floor. Another heavy wave of sadness overwhelms me.

I was so happy in this apartment with her. We both wanted to raise a child in this place.

I thought I would have many more years of happiness with her.

I know life can throw you curveballs – that in a split second everything can change. I just never thought she would be taken from me so soon. I thought we would grow old together and raise the family we always talked about. We both came from broken homes, and believed that together, we could finally create the family we always wished we grew up in.

The buzz from my phone notifies me of a message.

When I reach for it, I see that it’s a text message from Harry.

I don’t bother replying to his text.

I know Harry means well. Besides being my agent and manager, he’s also my best friend. But it’s hard to picture much of a future for myself anymore. After years of struggling, I finally made it in the art world. My paintings sell for millions of dollars. But it was my relationship with Ashley that made me truly grateful.

None of the girls I’d been with before Ashley ever made me feel so happy or grateful to be alive. With Ashley, I felt inspired every day. With her in my life, I did my best work. Now that she’s gone, there’s a deep void inside my soul. There’s a black hole that grows wider every day. It’s pulling me toward the darkness.

I suddenly feel exhausted. I lay down on the bed I shared with my wife. I imagine her lying next to me. I picture her describing her latest audition, or telling me about a role she’s excited to play. I imagine her smiling tenderly at me with those beautiful blue eyes. I picture myself kissing her, loving the taste of her lips and tongue against mine. Then I remember the incredible, passionate moments we shared in this bed, making love. Not only was Ashley the love of my life, but she was also the most passionate and intense lover I had ever been with.

After our first date – when I painted her – Ashley said I had set her free. Sexually. She said I made her feel like the woman she always wanted to be. Once her sexual spirit had been released, there was no holding her back. Together, we embarked on a passionate journey of love and sexual exploration.

It’s hard to imagine ever experiencing such a powerful yet intimate connection with another woman.

Lying in our bed, the scent of her still lingering in the room, I realize I don’t want to move forward. I want to go back. I want to relive the past. I just can’t let Ashley go.

As my mind replays all the wonderful memories I shared with her, I fall asleep.