To my Dearest Friend

Numb

I have not received and answer from him. I say to Akiva. 'You worry a lot don't you brey." I sigh. "Always have, always will." 'It's not healthy, he'll be alright Yves. I promise.' 'I can't seem to let him go.' Akiva finally looks up from the microscope. 'You don't need to let him go Yves. Can't you see he will always be a part of you it may be shattered but even when it hurts your hand sometimes it hurts more to let it go. 'Every day is like a chore akiva, it's like living in harder without him. The only thing that makes me feel alive is his letters and our conversations.' I feel a tear prickling in my eye. "So you still drink to make it better?' He asks. 'Sonetimes, I try not to.' He nods. I don't mention I use laudanum to fall asleep every night. Well, I'm not sure if I could call it sleep it's more an euphoria where you're not awake but you are and you're dreaming while awake, 'You should try writing letters about your feeling and not sending.' Akiva says 'Why?' I ask. 'It's a safe place to write all your emotions and worries, without any form of judgement.' 'I'll think about it.' My heart feels heavy. I feel a tear running down my cheek. akiva sits down and gestures me to sit down. He puts his hand on my head. I close my eyes and cry. 'It's okay.' He says gently 'You'll be alright.' I feel a lot emotions being lifted from my shoulders. He does not try to calm me down. He just understands. It's like he's a safe haven. I still hate crying but this way it'e not all that bad. It almost feels freeing. 

I'm leaving. 'Do I need to bring you home?' Akiva asks. I shake my head. He grabs his coat. 'I'll bring you home.' We're walking through the beautiful streets of Loddon. I feel like I'm dreaming, nothing reels real. Meier doesn't take his eyes off me for even a second. We arrive at my residence when I see Oscar standing in front of it. 'Yves you got it! they have a contract we only need a meeting so you can sign it!' It feels unreal. My dream is coming true but why do I feel nothing? I smile and say as enthusiastically as I can: 'Really? You have no idea how happy I am!' 'Me too!' Oscar say. Akiva gives embraces me. 'Let's drink on it.' I say while opening the door.

'I'm so happy for you!' Oscar says. I nod as he leaves. 'Thank you so much!' I say, and I really mean it I am very grateful. 'Take care of yourself.' Akiva says. He hugs me. I feel tears in my eye. I promise I will. I close the door behind him. I look up, trying not to ory. Why do I feel like this. I'm hyperventilating an I slowly feel myself sliding down till I'm sitting against the door I should be feeling so happy cut why do I feel so incredibly numb? I want to feel even if it is extreme sadness but it's not even that. It'a e hopelessness. I want to feel better, I want to have energy. I want to be able to forgive my father, I want to be able not to worry. I want to be normal. I stand up and grab a bottle of wine. I feel like nothing is clear anymore, I don't get the world anymore, I don't even get my own feelings. I feel so extremely angry about this. My hands are trembling. I feel my hand numbing and the next thing I know is that the glass shatters on the ground. I pick up the sharde when one cuts me, near my scar from the fire. The red blood oozes out as if it was never meant to stay in there. I don't drop the shard. It cuts me but I'm not ready to let it go. will I ever be ready to let it go? I doubt it. I sometimes wish I had never met him but how dumb that is because if I had not met him I would probably be dead already, my Cyril, my saviour, my heart, my soul, but he gave it all away to a new person. If I would have been there would he have fallen in love? I wonder, I wonder so many things like I wonder how to let go of somebody that easily. I wonder If I have ever seen his heart or soul. I wonder if he believes or better said believed in us. I love him I hate him, I hate him so but God and heaven how I love him. I hate how I love him, I hate him, I hate him and his beautiful face, I hate him so but God in heaven how I love him. 

I enter my study, I grab my typewriter and paper. I sigh and look at the white surface. I close my eyes, I open my soul, I take a dee breath. I begin to type.