Now that he is gone, you don’t look forward to the rays of warmth peeking from your window. You plan to put your phone on divert mode and pull the duvet over your head and get lost in the longing emptiness. But your limbs will you and you get up from your now ragged mattress and the ground beneath somehow supports you to the dining space. You are both angry and sad at yourself.
Was there anything less? Maybe he was tired of my whiny talks every night. What was it that made this happen?
Even as you mourn your loss, you are happy that he died before you did. You can still wake up knowing that he won’t be there beside you, curled up like a rose devoid of thorns. That you have to order for one every time you decide to have coffee. You are happy that he died before you because as you walk through the streets with your arms folded, you will be reminded of the walks every evening. He will be there to ensure that you don’t trip and fall.
Men are literal creatures. They usually mean what they say. Maybe I wasn’t perfect enough for him, then. Was there nothing that I could’ve done? Just to undo this? This pain hugging my chest?
As the hands of the clock tick by swiftly, he will heal you. He will make you remember what you meant to him and how much compatible you were with him. He will show you what you are still capable of. Still worthy of.
Even though he is gone, he will see through you and nurture the hope. He will heal you and see to it whether you dare to dream again. Whether you would be willing to try and start afresh. With time he will teach how to how growing up means “turning your pain into a rose that is easy for someone to hold”. With time, he will teach how healing isn’t just reciprocation.
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