PARAPHERNALIA

Update 4: Precious

I am writing this diary entry to serve as my last note. I don't know who will be reading this but I would want you to know everything on my mind before I depart.

My misery started on the eve of Christmas last year. I was driving down the road, back from the party, with my wife and her 37 weeks baby bump. I know we shouldn't have been hanging out in her condition but we had promised that would be the last one before the little one comes along. I was so excited to welcome our little angel into our tiny family that I had everything planned, over-planned as my girlfriend would say but it was my first time experience and I wanted to be ready. My mother-in-law wanted our baby's gender to be kept a secret so we couldn't host a gender reveal event at the baby shower, much to my disappointment. We had a friendly little quarrel over it but unfortunately, she won! I accepted my defeat with no hard feelings. Otherwise, everything was perfect!

Back to the silent dark road, where I am driving through the empty highway, travelling uphill to reach my in-law's to drop my wife off. I had always been a safe driver, but safer than ever that night. I did not drink a sip however much my friends insisted. The night was dark, probably a new moon and the hilly terrain highway was rough and bumpy. I drove as slow and smooth as I could. I made sure that my wife had the seat belt on properly. She turned on some soft music and started humming in her sweet calm voice, I too tagged along. Peaceful rides are the most calming. I was ecstatic to say the least but my ecstasy did not last for long.

I still haven't been able to remember what happened that night. I woke up on a hospital bed two days later confused and in pain. I had bandages all over me and a machine hanging over, choking me so hard that I struggled to breathe. In a few seconds, some people rushed in and freed me and my voice. I thought the nightmare was finally over, but boy I was so wrong! My aging mother came in with tears in her eyes. I assured her that I was alright but she wasn't convinced. She hugged me and cried. I sat there still, my right arm in a sling while my left arm hanging by the side of the body unable to comprehend whether to hug back or to tell her that her squeeze hurts like hell. My mother did not say a word though. She sat there and stared at me.

A few hours passed by. I wanted to speak but I forgot how. I wanted to ask about my girlfriend and my baby. Not seeing them was giving me anxiety. I wanted to ask what had happened. I couldn't. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I couldn't comprehend. My father-in-law came in and I broke out of my mind. He was shaking and holding back tears. I had to ask. I had to. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes. I opened my mouth slowly, searching for my voice. It croaked.
"Lisa"
The only word I could form. The only word that mattered. My mother who was a silent spectator, burst into years and ran out of my room. That was the moment I lost everything.

So, now it's been a year since then. Here on the eve of Christmas I sit by myself drinking and writing, imagining how my life would have been if we had decided to spend the last Christmas Eve at home by ourselves. The thought of it is unbearable at this point, but the feeling fills me up with warmth on the inside, so I keep imagining. My baby boo and his parents in matching pajamas decorating the Christmas tree, exchanging presents and my home resonating with the sound of heartfelt giggles. "Perfect!"
But sadly, it's only my lonely self and a sad bottle of wine looking through the window at our neighbour's celebration. I thought about going back to my parent's this year but couldn't bring myself to it. It just didn't feel right. I was supposed to be with my family, with my love and our child. This was not supposed to happen. I have to be with them to feel whole again.

The whole year I spent in so much pain, both emotional and physical, that I got addicted to pain medication, opioids and barbiturates mostly. I was open to try out any recreational drug but none numbed me down enough. I still kept feeling, the crippling despair and guilt pounding at the back of my head all day long. It was too much. I had it since the moment in the hospital. It never changed, the constant dull pounding. I could not work. I could not sleep. I could not eat. I want it to stop. I want the pain to go away. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to live like this. I don't want to live without my family.

For whoever reading this, if you really loved me, please let me go in peace. Do not cry, do not blame. I have been in enough pain already and this is the only way out for me. The only chance I will ever get to see my family again. I want to take the leap. Please do not feel sad because know that I am going to a far better place than I was in. I will love and be loved. I will find them again. I will never be alone ever again. I will not apologise for my decision but I also hope that you understand that I did not come to this conclusion lightly.

That will be all for my last note. Thank you for the precious life.
The End.