Dear Diary

Day 12

Your highs and lows of the past year/ year and a half

Dear Diary,
                       Seriously? Aren't these people tired of hearing my 'lows'?

I know, I know "Self- discovery"

So, I will begin with the 'lows' because I want to get past the bad and long stuff first.

My lows of the past year:

1. My dad's death:
Of course, the starting of the storm in my life.

In the last months of his life, my father had become a very small part of my life.

I didn't even care about him.
Yet, his death came as a big shock to me.

I faintly remember how I felt when he died, every good moment we had ever shared flashed in front of my eyes and I felt like the ground beneath my feet was not present anymore.
I passed out and woke up to everyone around me crying, my tears too, were inevitable.

I realized that day that no matter how far apart we had drifted, I still loved him and I would take him back if I were given the chance.

At that time, I thought that I had experienced the worst pain ever.

Little did I know that the aftermath would be the worst pain ever instead.

2. Travis's death:
This shouldn't surprise you as well.

All the pages in this diary have one consistent thing in them.
Travis.
He is everywhere.
In my mind, my heart, my soul.
He never leaves me alone.

I read novels like 'The Fault In Our Stars' and 'A Walk To Remember' where the lead character dies but when they do so, whether it's cancer or something else, they give their significant other a reason to live.

They teach their lovers to close their eyes so they can feel the wind against their skin, to hear the vivid melody of all the birds.

The lovers that they leave behind look up to the sky and think of the one they lost, they look at flowers or books and are reminded of the love they once lost.

The ones that are left behind go out to live life because they know that every breathe takes away a second of your life and they make sure to make the best of every breathe. They know that life is precious and not something to waste.

Travis did just the opposite of that for me.
Books and flowers don't remind me of him, razor blades do.

He took his life, he didn't think that every breathe was precious. He didn't believe that that the melody of the birds was beautiful enough and he didn't believe that the the wind sweeping across his face was soothing. He didn't look up towards the sky and felt scared of the things he didn't know.

He probably thought that the bird's voice was annoying, he probably thought that the gentle wind was itching his face. Maybe he looked up to the sky and felt like he belonged there.

It makes me feel guilty when I think that he might have experienced so many of these things while I was with him and he probably wanted to tell me that every breathe felt like a burden but he couldn't get the words out of him. Maybe he gave me hints, and I didn't pay attention.