It was a beautiful October fall day. The birds sang in unison. The sun peaking from the clouds. The trees were swaying from side to side. The leaves were crunching with every step as we were walking into the gym down the street on Linville. We both had earphones in, but I still heard your music. I hate how loud your blare your music. I pull out one earbud and tell you, “You’re going to lose your hearing when you’re old if you keep listening to your screamo stuff that loud”. You rolled your eyes and flashed a smirk. You clearly didn’t care and you continued listening to your black Zune. I left you for a minute to get a medicine ball and when I came back, your dark hair covered your eyes and you told me that you couldn’t work out with me anymore. You looked like you, but you didn’t sound like you all of a sudden. You’d never say that. Confusion entered my bloodstream that led to panic. I grabbed your hand, but it started to fade away. A white mist disseminated throughout your body until you…vanished. All that was left was your Zune, hanging in suspension where you were holding it. I threw my body in desperation to grab you. Nothing. I grabbed nothing. I screamed on top of my lungs, “Where did you go?! Don’t leave me! COME BACK!” I sprinted out of the gym. I didn’t know what to do. So, I ran, screaming your name. I kept running…
My eyes darted open. I found myself in a bed in a dark room… my bed…in my room. I threw my sheets on the floor. My adrenaline spiking. I leaped out of my bed and continued shouting your name. This time, I had to tell you about the dream I had about you and tell you how much I love you. I couldn’t imagine you not being with me.
Then it was as if a storm cloud rose above me, pouring and struck me with a bolt of lightning, I felt a void in my heart. All at once, reality slammed me against the hallway floor, catching myself with my shaking hands.
I didn’t have to imagine because you left me. You left me 4 years ago. I lay on my hallway floor drenched in my sweat of panic and my tears of sorrow. I don’t know where you went. I can’t see you anymore. I curled into a ball and closed my eyes to try to go back to my dream to see you again, but alas defeated. I am stuck in this nightmare of living a life without you. What a cruel game life plays on me, a vicious cycle of teasing me with your presence, then ripping you out over and over and over again. How do I walk amongst people again in everyday activities when my world collided into darkness? What is it like to adapt to merely cease to exist?
As I lay on the cold hard wooden floor, I recall my new purpose in my life. Since the day you left, I dedicate my every living breath to make you proud. We made plans and promises together that I intend to keep no matter how difficult the journey becomes. I start to lift my head, grab the wall to pick myself back up. This pain reminds me of the immense love and happiness we had. I drudge my feet to the bathroom, I flick the light on, only to see my reflection in the mirror. As I look at myself, I am flooded with my newfound strength I grew into the past few years. Through severe pain, disappointment, loss and suffering, I found beauty and learned to love again. I discovered people in my life who deeply care for me. I am uncovering ways I can devote my gift of life to empower others. I brush my hair behind my ear and wipe the tears from my eyes. I’ve learn to love this person too, who stares back at me. I love her because I fought tirelessly to become her. Please know, I’ll always miss you. Your departure shattered me into pieces, but I am trying every single day to put myself back together, but not into who I used to be. That person left when you did, but more like a fresh mosaic. Meticulously, placing each piece after each battle won. I won’t be the same, how could I be? I’ll strive for taping and gluing both old and new pieces to reinvent who I am. Until I see you again, I’ll be listening to your Zune. Loudly 🙂