Starting Over

2. Her Memories

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." - Robert Frost

~*~

Blake got up next morning  and looked at the calendar. Sunday . He hated Sundays ever since Lucy had died. Sundays for him were now like gaping wounds issuing life blood to his ever fresh scars. He didn't have to go to the university on Sundays, there was nothing to keep him occupied, even if it was for a short while.

He would love Sundays when Lucy was living. He used to look forward to them, to spend quality time with her , to laugh with her, to get lost with her , to be in her arms, to see her. But now, it was like his life had lost it's meaning. He was like a hollow man, with a body  but no soul, an empty sky with no clouds or sun, just a shallow, breathing man who had forgotten the meaning of life. Thinking about all the Sundays where Lucy's presence had adorned his life, he proceeded to freshen up so that he could go to her grave and spend some time with her memories. The only thing that showered happiness in his otherwise sad life these days.

~*~

Blake did the same things everyday-

Get up in the morning, pull out the curtains, exhale deeply and look straight into her room, wishing to see her again. Then he would freshen up, pick up the flowers from the table, look at the mirror and remind himself;

It ls going to be okay.

In spite of all his efforts of coping up, Blake would fail miserably, every day, every minute , ever second of his life. His blue eyes screamed from within to see Lucy, his arms craved to have her in them, his ears waited to hear her voice. But his mind kept reminding him, like an alarm clock from time to time that  she wasn't here  and that he had to go on. These days would too pass like the others did. Slowly, painfully, gradually.

Then he would visit her grave, and spend half an hour everyday, looking up in the blue sky and remembering her, talking to her in his head saying that he loved her and always would. And after a long, happy flashback of Lucy, he would be ready to continue his education in his university. The same one where Lucy once went, where Lucy once smiled and where Lucy once said that she would love him no matter where she was.

There he would look at his classmates which reminded him of the unsavoury words of sympathy that formulated in their mouths, the look on their faces which he hated and patiently wait for the lecturer to arrive, in the silent but  rather comforting presence of Chlara.

During lunch, he would exchange a few formal words with Eros and Kristine, otherwise keeping quiet , lost in his thoughts. Sometimes, during free periods, he would be engrossed in his medical books or perhaps looking up at the sky, probably remembering Lucy because his ocean blue eyes would be seen filled with tears, glittering, screaming from within.

In the evening, he would only study his medicals, and for some time succeed to eliminate Lucy from his head. And  at night, he would happily sleep, wishing to see her in his dreams which he invariably did. His mind played games with him. He would hallucinate about Lucy ever now and then, as if she was somewhere here, but he did not know where. But the night was the only time when one could see a calm, content, composed Blake sleeping.

And that was all he did. Even after Lucy's death his life revolved around her, in her memories, always thinking about her. He was now like a bird, who, even after learning to fly decided to stay in it's nest for flying into the world was way too dangerous, way too painful, way too hurting.

~*~

That Sunday Blake parked his car in the garage after visiting Lucy's grave. As he was returning back home, he looked up at her window and something caught his eye. His eyes widened and he clenched his fist. He banged the door open and stormed upstairs to her bedroom.