A feeling of nausea crossed by mixed with anger, which spontaneously increases the nausea to the extent that leaves my body wobbling on the way to the bathroom. Emptying the nothingness in my stomach. Giving up, my body knelt, catching my breath again before a single tear dropped and I admitted to myself for the millionth time, saying faintly the words, "I am weak." My legs are having their moment now, because those words are reflected on the whole me, they are shivering mercilessly and I will probably have more ten minutes before I gather what is left in me and walk back to my bed.
Cold. The bathroom floor is usually cold. But it's me whose temperature is dropping. Shivers started building up my skin wandering on my arms making me feel colder. Another tear dropped, I grab the nearest thing that can cover me, a towel.
Silence. My body is silent now. I am left wandering through things that my body forced me to leave for a while, when those thoughts played their physical effect on me.
Two weeks ago, I was happy or at least I was me. I was starting a new book. I was making another mosaic. I won my eleventh tennis medal. Another award for my last winning book. Trying a new recipe. reading a book. Going on a camp. Going on the last hike with my bestfriend before she left to Manhattan.
But mostly my boyfriend was still alive and breathing.
My life was rational. The way I have always lived it. The way it has always been. Minor changes happened but wasn't anywhere close to effective. I had a routine; it has never been updated for the past eight years as far as I remember. And I was okay with it, for it has never been boring.
Major changes crash into your life over the night, whispering the saddest thoughts and watches you fall into the depths of despair.
A single call breaks into your night and shatters your life when you know that an eight years old relationship is destroyed because a drunk driver crashes into your boyfriend taking his life away.
You are waiting for the words "Aprils fool" even though it's not April and the voice doesn't sound like fooling you. Maybe he just planned that prank because he never managed to fool you, that's why you'll run the streets to make sure it's just a ridiculous joke. But no, it's just you not wanting to believe, while everything around provides evidence. You didn't reach his phone, you thought he slept. You can see his friends posting photos without him; maybe he didn't go because he was sleeping. No goodnight call, he played a football match today, you understand he was too tired that he slept early.
You are explaining every damn thought that you felt comfortable with it and slept. You dreamt of him giving the brightest smile but saying, "Don't forget me."
Back to real world, you wake up. Breathe hitching. Sweaty forehead and palms. You cry, you are having evidence that you have already discredited.
Your phone is ringing. A little hope maybe its him, even though it's not his special tone. You still hope...
You are having a moment now. His bestfriend's number. You didn't even remember any of you had each other's numbers, let alone calling. You are still half asleep, maybe it's just a dream. So you open your eyes wider, things feel realistic, you can feel the tight grip on your phone, your knuckles are whitening. Quit rubbing your eyes, it will give you a rash. Answer the phone. It's probably a prank...
The most idiotic irrational reasons made it look like a prank. You don't know how stupid you got, but that's how you ended up on that day.
He didn't say hello. His voice doesn't sound like a joke. You can actually see his tears. You hear the stutter, the shiver that comes before bad ugly news. And here it comes. The news falling blatantly on you, showing no mercy. Icy cold shredding words, rocking your spine with vigorous shivers. His voice doesn't leave a place for, "What?" or maybe that's you who got so far with the thoughts that you forgot to get along with the usual procedure.
Rub your eyes again; the rash will be okay if that's just a dream. It's not like you'll go that far to pinching yourself, you can feel your heat, the hitching breath, the floor beneath you.
Don't to yourself, its real world now and you have never been more awake than now.
Your breath is stopping, but you are already forgetting about that. Your tears are falling, but you didn't notice that. You feel the heat bubbling in your body, eating your inside to emptiness.
A mirror is standing just in front of you; did you see your reflection?
Lost. That's the word. Fully describing you. What should you do next? What are you even doing? What were you doing? Whose that's reflection in the mirror? If it's yours, who are you?
The news is dawned over you. You understand what you heard. He's calling your name a million times now, but you lost your senses. Put the phone away, it's useless.
No wait, maybe he'll call. At least a last goodbye?
Get up, look from the window. Maybe he's there surprising you. Grab the phone again and call him. Call him until he answers. Hell answer from the very first call once he sees it's your n umber. Unreachable. No. Text him before you call. No reply. Call again. Nothing. Why nothing? You see car lights out from the window, he's here. He'll wipe those tears. You'll hate him for that prank, but what matters now that he's alive.
You run downstairs. Another moment you are having. It's your best friend with smeared makeup sitting with your dad whose eyes are glittering. She's trying to tough up, and wipe her tears, smudging her face even more. But her toughness dilutes once she sees you.
If anything tried to convince you even for a moment, but now...
You're trying to catch your breath...
Your temperature is falling fast...
You lost the feeling of the ground beneath you...
You lost the grip on your phone...
You can feel your body falling...
You can see them running to catch you...
But all of that is happening again, on your bathroom floor.
I can see dad throwing his suitcase and running towards me, until he kneels down next to my motionless body trying to carry me up, "Ren. Oh god. Renee. Did you have those flashbacks again? Oh dear god. Lenny, come here. Hurry."
"Dad..."
"Shushh. It's alright. Daddy's here now. Everything's going to be alright."
The thing is you'll never know when it's going to be alright.
