Shhh in 2023

  • May 4, 2023, 9:13 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

The silence is deafening.

I sit in the stillness of the living room, staring blankly at your memorial shelf.

The sun moves across the sky, I know it does because the shadows turn slowly around the room.

I hear sirens and car alarms and horns in the distance, but there is nothing but emptiness within these walls.

The ache, the pain, the grief .. it tries to come out of my body, tries to rip its way out of my chest, out of my heart but … it just wrenches out of my throat in sobs and gasps that bring no relief.

The days are so long.

The nights are longer.

Waiting. Waiting for you to come home. Straining to hear the sound of your boots outside.

But your boots are on the rack by the door, and you’re already home .. in an urn .. in a cabinet … with your hat, your keys, your wallet, your watch, your cologne .. and crystals I assembled in case their energy brought you closer to me.

Two nights ago I smelled your cologne. Sitting here in the darkness and silence, alone, staring at your cabinet … I smelled it, as clearly as if you were leaning in to me.

I sniffed again, strongly, to make sure I was smelling what I thought I was smelling .. and it was gone.

I told myself I’m ridiculous, that its impossible and absurd .. and then I smelled you again .. for a moment. And then gone again.

Like when you came to me in my dream the first night you were gone. Over a month ago now and I can still remember it as vividly as if it just happened .. the feel of your lips, your mustache, the power of that kiss.

I wish you would come back again. Don’t you hear me begging you? Every night? As the tears soak your pillow, can’t you hear me crying for you to come back to me? Even just in a dream. For a moment?

I keep drinking orange juice. I’ve somehow convinced myself that even if I can’t eat a decent meal or proper food at all, then at least the magical orange juice will provide my body with the vitamins and nutrients and sugars it needs.

I don’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore.

My hair turned white. It looks ridiculous because I have several inches of new growth that was my natural shit-brown streaked with grey, and then the dark brown/mahogany dye job for the rest of it, and my natural colour/new growth went full ass white since you died. I don’t even fucking care. Might just let the whole mess grow out white.

My eyes are dull. Dull is the only word I can think of. Not bright and shiny and full of mischief like they were. You could always always tell what I was thinking if you looked at me .. that drove me nuts, it was impossible to keep anything from you because of it, hah. Green eyes, you said I must have some dragon in me. Not anymore. Dull. Etched with tears.

My face is gaunt. I was expecting to look different considering how different I feel but this .. this is disturbing. Seeing myself looking on the outside the way I feel on the inside. Even my skin is grey. Not grey like yours was that morning, but grey in an almost see-through way.

They keep saying how strong I am. How strong and resilient I’ve always been. But thats only the side of me I let them see. They don’t see the real me .. the small, scared, insecure, crying, alone me. You saw that me. And you loved me even harder because of it ..

Geezus Christ Chris, how did you love me after all that history we had? Everything you knew about me? All my low down dirty fears and vulnerabilities and insecurities and you still loved me, still wanted me, still needed me? Still made me feel like the most beautiful important woman in the world?

And now the most broken. Unrecognizable. Weak.

Defeated.


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