My Angel~ Helen McCrory stories

Fake Scenarios

TW: grief, death

You were the center of all my fake scenarios. The ones I would have when I couldn't sleep, so I stayed up, thinking of you. There were different ones, too. Like the coffee shop one, where we would both reach for the same drink, an iced chai. Our hands would lightly brush against each other and I would look up to meet your eyes. As I held your pretty, honey colored brown eyes in mine, the butterflies would fill my stomach. I would blush, look down nervously, and give you the drink. You would thank me, a slight flush in your cheeks. You would leave, but not before giving me another flash of those ethereal eyes. If I stared long enough, I knew I would fall hopelessly in love with you. Or, there was the bookstore scenario. That was my favorite. I would be walking through a bookstore in London, a pretty, Notting Hill kind of store. You would be reading, and I would recognize the book. Distracted, you walk into me. "Oh, sorry love" you apologize quickly. "It's okay" I tell you, then say I like the book you're reading. We talk about it for a few minutes. As we lapse into our casual conversation, I notice how easy it is to talk to you. I say something that makes you smile, something that brings laughter to your eyes. Your smile is too pure for this world, I notice. And it was. You were too pure for this world. Like sunshine peaking through the clouds. Like a bright diamond found in the middle of a compost pile. Sometimes, when I miss you, these thoughts will comfort me. You had to leave, because you were always an angel. It's what you were always meant to be. This will only work sometimes. Most of the time, I get caught up in how cruel it is. I will never forget my reaction when I found out. Your picture flashed across my screen, making me smile. I love seeing your picture. Then, I scrolled down, and my heart sank. No, it had to be a joke. This could not be happening to you. You, you beautiful, happy, youthful, kind, human being. How could it be real? I saw you yesterday, and you were as amazing as ever. I looked up to you. You, you strong, badass woman. How could anything happen to you? This isn't real, this isn't real. But my heart knew the truth, and I already started disassociating. I need more proof to convince my head. I keep scrolling, and I see a string of pictures of your beautiful self. It wouldn't stop. You haunted me, literally. I couldn't process, and I couldn't feel. So, I didn't. I bottled it up. They say grief gets better with time, but it's been almost a year since you left this earth, and I feel just as shitty as I did that day. When it becomes one year, five years, ten year, it will hurt just as much. You're an open wound that would only heal if I could stop touching it. Something that I hate the most is when people say "loved" after someone died. She was great, I loved her. No. She is great, I love her. I will never use the past tense for love, not when talking about you. Because I still love you. My love is not in the past. I still love you, and you are not here. Why, why aren't you here? But, I saw you once. I don't know what it was. It was a dream, because we were somewhere I had never seen. A tearoom. One with glass windows, full of bright light. All I could see was you, my angel. But, I know it was more than a dream. I could feel your spirit. You took my hand, and you told me not to be upset. "How can I not be upset?" I asked, tears welling in my eyes. You stroked my hand with your thumb, then put it on your cheek. Your soft skin felt so real under my hand, so comforting. You smiled, that precious smile you do that makes my heart swell with love. You tell me that you had to go, that you were in a better place. You insisted that you were in a better place. When I woke up, the tears overflowed like a waterfall, staining my pillowcase. God, you were in so much pain, and I didn't know. I wish I had known. I could have helped, I could have prepared. Knowing would have been better than the feeling I felt when your pictures flooded my screen. Fake scenarios are called that for a reason. They're not real. But, they could have been. A small part in my heart held out for you. It was saved for you, like a big round table at a restaurant with a "reserved" sign on it. Now, you can never claim it. I don't have fake scenarios about you anymore. I know they won't happen. Instead, I hope that you come back. I'm selfish, I know. But I want to see you again. If I must die to do so, so be it. I want to feel the presence of your beautiful soul. You have the most enchanting smile. What I wouldn't give to see it again. You always have been, and always will be, an angel. I fell in love with you, and now I deal with the consequences. In another life, maybe you will be mine. Maybe I will get to wake up to your smiling face everyday. Maybe, because my heart is still yours. And people tell me I'll be okay. You'll be okay, you'll be okay, that's all I ever hear from the people I tell. Whenever I let someone in, that's what I hear. But I won't. It's been almost a year, and I feel the same. Like I saw all those pictures of you popping up on my phone yesterday. I won't be okay because you aren't here. You won't come back. I am still here, here without you. How can it possibly be okay when you will be up there forever and I am still down here. I am done with false hope. It won't be okay, because I am not with you.

Authors note: this is by far one of the most personal things I have ever written. I wrote this a while ago but I just now feel comfortable sharing it. I'm especially feeling it today. I hope reading this is a little helpful with grieving ❤️

Side note: I'm kind of a medium and she came to visit me one time so I referenced that in this chapter

Also I promise this entire book isn't gonna be sad lol I've just been in a mood