Waves - Book #2 [completed]

41 ~ Saudade

Saudade
(Portuguese)
noun
a solemn or melancholic feeling or longing for something which does not and probably cannot exist; something that has been loved and lost; "the love that remains"

I miss Mason.

We haven't seen each other for a few days since he's been showing Curtis around the east coast, and I've been traveling to Sydney for Emma's next competition as well as catching up with all my other students.

We texted of course and he's being the most adorable, clumsy boyfriend you can imagine, always checking how I'm doing and what I'm up to and following up by asking if he's overbearing while at the same time never being irked when I don't text back until the evening since I'm driving, surfing or running about for the most parts of my days.

But in the short time we've been together I would've loved to see him more.

Except for today.

Today I don't want to see anyone.

Because today's the fourth year since Samir collapsed on our driveway and fell into a coma. The day I lost my best friend, my love, my husband and partner. My world. My Everything.

I felt this dull crawling-like itch under my skin yesterday evening when I went to bed, dreading the night and already knowing that today would be depressing and streaked by pain and crying. It became reality when my dreams were plagued with the most agonizing memories.

I woke up at the crack of dawn with a numbing headache and tears streaming down my cheeks after having a nightmare about him having a seizure. Reliving that day and knowing exactly what the outcome will be is equally frightening. I can't breathe right. Can't think straight.

On top of all that I'm on my period and it feels like my uterus wants to disintegrate itself.

I despise my birthday.

My last two birthdays were... dire, considering the circumstances. Not even near good, but I was able to make it through the day without wanting to die myself. I still holed myself up at home with a bottle of whatever booze I could find first and didn't want to see anyone. I had a good cry every single year, mourning the life I could've had and the loss of my person who's been ripped from me too early before I got myself piss-drunk and then tried to sleep it all off until the day was finally over and I wouldn't be plagued by unwanted images in my head anymore.

When someone's life ends, the feelings and the attachment you feel for them don't disappear with them. They may faint over the years, but they won't ever go away completely.

What stays forever, too, are memories – small snippets of our life that never fail to make me smile. They pop up randomly when I'm out grocery shopping or doing something we used to do together. That's how I'd rather remember Samir and how much I loved him, not the longest and most painful moments before the ambulance arrived. Not the most gruesome days and weeks of him in hospital with tubes keeping him somewhat alive.