When did you ever leave?
I didn’t
Where the fuck are you?
I’m still here
I’m going to let go
But you can’t…can you
No I guess I can’t let her go. I never have been able to. I still hold her hand in mine, I still look into her eyes, I still hear her voice in my head. I can still feel her presence…as if she’s standing next to me. Is she? Am I crazy? Am I ever going to be able to forget? No Rory you can’t let her go can you, you weak fuck. Sitting in the hospital waiting room, I would otherwise be preparing myself for another 72 hour hold, still waiting for my doctor to buzz the door to my room and ask me “So why did you do it this time?”
I would still give him the same answer…
But no, she plagues my thoughts. Not all the time, I still sit and have a smoke as I watch the clouds drift away with the wind at their backs. But I’ll go inside, smoke a little weed, drink a little booze…and she will come back to me, sit beside me in my bed and whisper to me that she never once left me at all. But why Kathryn…why come back to me over and over and over again? Nah, can’t answer that one can you. Let me smoke a little more, drink a little more. Maybe at some point I’ll have no conscious mind to perceive what I wish would be reality. I’ll no longer see you and hear you and feel you and smell you and listen to your inaudible words. Maybe I’ll drift away like the clouds.
Never come back…
She consumes my life, as if she is the very blood that flows from my veins. She constantly beckons my name in the late hours of the night. I constantly beg her to stop.
She never does…
She died 4 years ago of brain cancer, in a hollow little room in the hospital. I didn’t get to see her, I didn’t get to kiss her one last time…I didn’t get to say goodbye. The cancer came on like a freight train, and within two weeks time my love was dead in the ground. I pleaded with God at the time not to put her down there. I asked so many times to have a second chance, to replace that gravestone with my own. But that wish was never granted. Instead he never answered, and thus my beliefs were burned along with all the pictures and the gifts. Her memory is all I have left, and yet still it’s as if she never left me. It is torture to hope every day that her voice belongs to a body, and her touch belongs to an actual hand. But my lover is a ghost. And so I continue to ask her, after all the nights she keeps me awake…
Are you dead yet?
2 comments
I’m so sorry for your loss. Sorry you’re still going through this.
It happens, but I suppose It doesn’t always happen like this. I appreciate your consideration Trix.