Engulfed. That’s how I felt during those first few days. By the toxic fumes of what was left of us.
I’d go to sleep with my breath and unshed tears getting caught in my chest like a tumor.
I’d wake up and you’d be my first thought even before my eyes opened to face the dawn, and the pain would press down on me like I was drowning.
I couldn’t throw my thoughts into a suitcase and throw them away like I did with so many of my things when I couldn’t bear to see them.
The ticket stubs. A receipt from that one time we got matching toothbrushes. The sunglasses I bought because you recommended them.
Sunshine. How do you escape sunshine?
Do you know it falls differently during different times of the day? It’s golden yellow around 2 PM, bends around buildings, and alters your shadow. After what happened, the 2 PM sun turned into an enemy I couldn’t bear to look at, one that reminded me of all the times we met at that time, one that made me angry, one that made me scream.
Everything made me scream.
There were days I wished I could scream with more than just my throat and lungs. I wished I could scream with my hands and the tips of my toes. I wished my skin could scream and shed and erase every last trace of you. I wished I could stop wanting to see you at every corner I turned in the street. I wished I didn’t break down in to tears all the time when I thought of you. I wished the day turned to night at 2 PM and I didn’t have to face that shade of gold that carried your name. I wished my heart would just explode and kill me, instead of letting me carry on and suffer.
I wished I wished I wished.
Then one day you weren’t my last thought before falling asleep. Another day, you weren’t the first when I woke up. The sun was still my enemy, the tears still came uninvited. And yet, with each new day, it hurt a little less and a little less.
I was guilty that I didn’t think of you that often.
I was relieved that I didn’t think of you that often.
It hasn’t stopped hurting. It may never stop hurting, and on days like this when I write about it, it returns like that first day.
But time goes on, and blood eventually stops burning.
Hi everyone! I’m working on a minimalist fiction project for this year’s #AtoZChallenge. The story will be shared in snippets, and the events occur non-sequentially. It is for the reader to interpret and form the “whole”. You can read all the posts here. Join me, and do share links to your AtoZ posts as well!