The Thought Of You | ✎ on going

01

♡ALINA♡
~~~

The worst kind of pain was never physical. This pain hurts more then a bruise to the leg, or a burn that sizzles the skin.

This kind of pain ripped away layers of the heart, tearing and cutting chunks off like paper.

It was like a knife to the chest, plunging through layers of skin and flesh, hurting the most valuable part of the body.

My mother was the only person to ever stay with me through thick and thin. We fought, we yelled, we laughed and cried. But we always figured it out.

She was in my blood. I was her daughter.

I didn't feel this pain till she passed away.

I had heard and seen about it in books and movies. The characters dropping to their knees crying historically.

I didn't drop to my knees, but I started to hide away.

I distanced myself from everyone. Shutting people out and acting like everything was fine. It wasn't.

Nothing is ever fine when you're hurting.

I like to picture her with me, standing above my shoulder telling me what to do.
I imagine her wiping away my tears and kissing my cheek like she used to all those years ago.

She didn't tell anyone she was sick. She felt the lump but kept quiet.

Why?.

If I would've known I would have done so many things differently.

I would've spent more time with her and less in my room. I would've went skating every weekend like we used to when I was young.

I would've been their when she had her last breaths.

But nobody knew.

And it was too late.

I looked down at my hands, rubbing my thumbs against one another. Tears prickle at my eyes but I keep them at bay.

No crying Alina. I tell myself.

My grandmother's hand rests on my thigh squeezing it once for reassurance. I tried everything in me to smile, but I just stayed quiet.

The people around the table look around at each other, waiting for the pin to drop.

The executor made his way to the head of the table, silencing the room with a deep cough.

"I'am here today to discuss the will and testament of Piper Noel Bailey." 

The room stays silent. No voices are heard and no questions are asked.

My father sits across from me at the large table. His eyes avoiding mine as he stared quietly at the executor.

He's here to collect his check then leave.

I haven't seen him in months, but yet here he is, waiting for his pay.

Mom and him divorced a long time ago. My mother always knew her worth. She didn't need a man like him to ruin our lives.