There’s something so painful about chasing the memories and love of a dead person. It’s like trying to hope for a better future, a future you know that wouldn’t involve them anymore. A future you once thought would be all about you and him.
I heard our song on the radio while on my way to office, and I was hurled back in time in an instant. It’s still hard to grasp what happened, like it seems to happen just yesterday and I was on the pavement of the hospital, crying my heart and soul out.
What you did, why you did, the theories behind it, the mechanics, I all understand it now. I studied it for you. I just wish I’d understood it before when you’re still clinging to me for life support, like I’m your anchor that keeps you from floating away from this world that demands too much of you.
I wish I held your hand tighter, and hugged you a little bit longer, and listened to you a little bit more patiently. But I didn’t. I took you a little bit for granted because I thought you’d be my forever, that you’ll always be here on my side, that you’ll always be my partner in crime.
When you left us, the world stop spinning for me as if for punishment. That’s the time I also realized that time could bend, that time could stand still and that it could stop just like that for me, the bright noise of the world dimming in a blink of an eye, the curtains closing, and I’m left with nothing but your memories and the white noise behind.
And contrary to what you always say to me, I learned that there’s such thing as too late. And I’d been too late. I’m so sorry.
She feels so lost. So empty, like a blank black canvass in a dark tunnel without end light, a black gaping hole in an eternal doom pit. Everything inside her is so dark. She couldn’t even see the end. Is there even an end? Or is where she’s standing an end already?
She is trying. She’s trying with all her might to find the edges of this darkness. As if this darkness is a page where she could just flip it over and be done with it. Yet it doesn’t seem like that. Her hands are stretched in her front, ready for anything she could grab on—a support, a wall, just anything. A stumbling block is even better than this encompassing nothingness.
Yet there is nothing.
Her fingertips are numb with the coldness around her. Her mind is surprisingly blank. And there is that haunting silence. Not even a white noise. And she is craving for noises, noises that would penetrate this blackness, noises that would aim at her heart, vibrate in her bones, and pierce her soul.
Yet there is nothing.
She couldn’t feel herself anymore.
Her breathing is slowly fading.
She is slowly fading.
Sinking into darkness.
And before everything turns to nothing, she utters something beneath her breath. Words that are instantly lost in the darkness, lost before it could even reach anyone, or anything.
She stands at the edge of a worn out building
Little people and cars that seem like toys litter below.
She tried to remember the events that led her to this
Yet all she could think was how warm she felt when his arms were around her.
She takes a deep breath and the icy air fills her lungs.
She curls her freezing hands into fists to stop it from shaking.
The wind blows and urges her forward.
For a millionth time, her eyes betray her with tears that won’t stop flowing.
I can do this, she says over and over in her head.
She gazes at the sky and the chirping birds above
And wishes a silent deal to the one beyond.
One step and another
She takes the plunge into the unknown.
The place was cold, and the wind is still. I am standing on my favorite place, the rooftop of the university building. There was no sun yet, and everything was quiet as the ocean sleeping. My life used to be this quiet, so mundane that I almost hate it. Now, even though my feet begun to feel numbed by the cold stone on where I was standing, I now admitted that I craved for this stillness, the ordinariness of life. Continue Reading