Gone. One minute someone is here, the next nowhere like a wisp of smoke. Suddenly, a brick from your life is kicked in right where your heart is. The slow shock sets in gradually as the brick falls in dead space, then the sound of your brick of a heart breaking flips the switch to reality. You can feel and see the tides gathering and you inhale through the gaping hole. Before the waves hit, a flood comes rushing in and you taste iron in your tongue. Streaks of hot lava like tears burn trails down your cheeks. They are gone.
A book, a chapter, a verse and a quote. The texts flood your phone.
You read the texts amid tears, they all sound the same. They are sorry for your loss; gone too soon some say, forever was a while away. No one saw it coming. The bricks holding your shoulders bend and you droop to a stoop. The waves of emotion pile on to the weight on your shoulders. Air rushes in through the gaping hole, too much air it makes you gasp as the streams of hot lava tears drench your bosom, freely and turn frigid. Just like your body is. Nothing makes sense. The phone keeps buzzing, the messages keep coming in. You put the phone on silent mode, you hold on to the fluffy pillow and bury yourself in it to muzzle your whimpering. You clutch your chest in a fist to close the open whole, you drift into a slide show of your memories together.
A knock, two knocks and you decide to leave the door open. They start visiting. They hold you, they listen as you express your frustration at the sudden loss. You ask why and they offer a sympathetic look. You ask why, some bury you in their bosom. They can’t bear to look you in the eye. They have no idea why, they look upwards and say a little prayer for you. Why is this happening to their friend, brother, sister, mother, father or lover? They see you in your broken state, they fumble for tape to piece you back together and quickly. They come up empty. They can only share words, but they know you would give anything to have that one person back.
Time passes. The bricks have crumbled and now the hole is no longer brick shaped. It is amorphous from gravity and your heaving chest. It is still there, but it has sealed. You are not the same person. They know this, you live this. They feel the urge to do something.
I know the right person for this, they tap your back and smile. You oblige. Barkeep! Open a tab for my friend. He needs the grieving special. Whisky, make it neat. The first burns a trail down your throat and ten shots later, you feel numb. You laugh, you smile. It is not so bad. You ask for ten more, you sound happy. You dance, you make fun, you talk politics, and somehow you have been following Gaza and Glasgow despite everything. You remember how it is to be alive again, if only he/ she would be here … you think. The curtains fly open and your hole is exposed again, it is still there. You breakdown, the merriment becomes something else, the funeral at the bar. They signal the barkeep, more shots for all of you. It dulls the pain… but you know it is there.
The hangover passes with every gulp of painkillers and water. I have a feeling you are losing your sanity, they say. You need to see someone for that, here is a card I have of a professional. Trust me, they will shrink your sorrows away. They smile, squeeze your hand and pat you on the back. You pick your phone and dial, pick your car keys and ask the secretary to show you in. You talk to the shrink, they tell you it is all part of the process. People come and go in our lives, you just need to remember what role they played in your life. Remember all memories and smile, that life was good once, and it can be if you allow yourself to move on. You hear but can’t listen, you nod for courtesy and ruminate on your own thoughts.
You are slipping away. The shots are getting dull, the professional is becoming a song in the background. I have a friend who has a friend in church, they usually do this prayer circuit. I can request a special prayer session for you. You shrug, why not. Let them bring the Lord to the house. They pray, you feel a presence. They read the bible you feel calm. There is an oasis of comfort in every desert of calamity, they soothe. It is always darkest before dawn, they encourage. The lord works in mysterious ways, and for everything, there is a reason. Nothing just happens. You smile, genuinely. They ask you to cherish the memories, and you agree. You will make an effort to move on.
Dude! You were so wasted yesterday but you were crazy fun, you are coming back to yourself. A high five and toast over beer.
Girl! My friend the shrink says you are making good progress. I think you are coming back to yourself. A hug as you head out for coffee.
Guys, my friends from church found you to have a spiritual aura. I think you should join church and bond more. Who knows, maybe you will move on and forget. You smile and purchase your first Bible in ages.
Thank you and God Bless You, you reply to the texts. It has been a trying period, dark and hazy. You are still holding up, you are strong they reply back.
Move on, they all seem to say. Why would you still be grieving, looking sad and gloomy after so many months or years even? Let those who have since departed be on their merry way and sleeping dogs lie. They are in a better place. Stop walking on the tight rope to depression. Haven’t we drowned our sorrows together enough? Were the prayers not earth shattering or was your faith short of a mustard seed for proper healing to happen? You realize those sessions with the shrink are billed per hour yes? The world is moving man, you need to snap out of it. They are gone. We know you can’t forget them, but you have to move on. We totally feel what you are going through, we have all been there before.
Do you? Do you feel the loss and vacuum that is my existence here, now, today, yesterday, the day before and as sure as the sun will come up, tomorrow? Did you find the cure when you went through it? You are getting angry, but they are just trying to help. You sigh, the bricks give in and the hole is somehow sealed. Imperfect seal but a seal nonetheless. You put on a face complete with a smile, and go out to meet the world. The silent hum of your engine matches that in your head; monotone. Your body follows your car, inertia. You drive in a different route, into an uncertain future … with one less brick in your heart’s wall.
donmu2ua 