"Time heals all wounds."
I have had people tell me. It has been 6 years now since my wife has departed this plain of existence. Time doesn't heal anything, it only teaches us to live with pain.
"The lord works in mysterious ways."
If you ask me, those are the most dangerous words ever spoken. I tried her way, she was always confident that there was a higher power. I tried praying to relieve the hurricane of headspace. The only thing I heard was the echo of the blood in my head. Now I find myself in free-fall from this rooftop. The streets are dark and empty, this was not a cry for help. I only wish for silence. I am a man that loved his wife more than life itself. A man that could not face a life without her light.
My eyes are open and I cannot see what approaches me with each passing millisecond. I see my mother sitting on stone steps with sunglasses and a large sun hat. I feel my Father's hands on my shoulders as he helps me keep balance on a bicycle. Just as the vision comes it is replaced with the image of my father holding a beer in a boat. Next to him is his brother, holding a fishing rod. I know these as memories from my childhood. The air around me is cold, but before I can think about it I see her. My wife before she was my wife. The first time we met, and we had no idea what was to come. Tears are pulled from my face and trail behind me.
Now I see her crying, after the loss of our child. We never tried again after that, she took it as a sign that a family of two was perfect. I'm not sure if seeing all of this is a reminder of what you are losing or a type of recap of the life you had. For me it was a powerful reminder of why I was here. The things I'll never get back. The way I could get lost in her beautiful azure eyes.
Closer now, I see her across from me on the couch. Her knees pulled up to her chest in an oversized sweater. Her hair is pulled off to one side and she has both hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. I will never feel the warmth of her touch, or witness the grace of her smile. The way she would look at me after we made love and I would kiss her forehead.
The day in the doctor's office when we received the news that the cancer in her brain would take her soon. She kept a smile through it all. Looking down on her in the casket, the same sweet face motionless. Different but still her, I could hear her voice telling me that it would all be okay. The funeral director embraced me and spoke no words. The smell of his cologne returned to me and also the thought of envy. How I envied him in that moment to be so jaded to death.
Closer now, I chose the night so I would not draw attention. I do not want sympathy, I want nothing. People will say I am selfish for what I have done. In reality they know nothing of what I feel. At this moment I enjoy my life with my wife one last time. Perhaps I will see her again, or perhaps I have eternally cursed my soul. Either way I will no longer be here, surrounded by reminders of what once was.
Closer now, I see the street lights. In these seconds I have gone through life again and time seemed to either slow down or just simply stop existing. Before I meet my fate with the raw cold hard ground below.
"I love you." Escapes my lips as the final image of her floods my eye's. Be it delusion or a higher power, I heard her voice. In its calming warm embrace whispers to me.
Merci pour la lecture!
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