Wait For Me

11 1 0
                                    

Ok so it's not a poem but still

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never know what it’s like to fear and need death when you’re on the brink, passing through the good and bad. Feeling as if two worlds are colliding with you right in the middle, ripping you apart every second.

It’s been raining since the day you had left. Never once letting up and I use to hate rain. I found it too depressing and it reminded me of the Earth weeping. Now I think of it as a relaxing and constant presence.

I had asked someone if the rain will let up. They had replied it had been sunny, never once rainy. From that day on I realized everyone saw the days different. I find them long and lagging never once to bring any joy to my face. Everyone else kept living once you had gone, but I never had, never will. You’re an echo in my head, I remember every word you said to me, and I wonder if this is what my life is going to be like from now on. Living in the past while in the present, the future passing me by, not bothering to stop and wait for myself to catch up, to get my head unstuck from what once was. My days have been rainy while everyone else has had sunny days. The storm never lets up, not once.

I visited your grave yesterday. I was drunk, but in that moment I allowed myself to forgive you and my puerileness. The sky cleared, the fogginess lifted, and for a moment the sun shone again. I could see your outline as you gave me that silly absurd nod of the head which I never got until now. You were proud, proud of me. And I smiled.

You are my sunshine. My moon. My calming presence. My everything. Every piece of my being from my head to my toes, from shell to my core. My protector. My guardian angel. What would I give to have you back beside me where you belong. At my side. You weren’t supposed to leave me in this cold deprived world and stand by Death’s side as if he was the first to claim you. I want to be free of this pain. Of this cold without you by my side. Of waking up sprawled in a bed meant for two. Of having to come back here annually. Of being told by your last words, “Live for me. Don’t come and try to find me.” What am I supposed to do? Continue living when the one person I care about dies on me?!

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

I’m broken. Every night I’m falling to pieces. You say there’s always a room full of second chances? What if you were my second chance? I don’t want to live if you’re not by my side.

People have been slandering your name, they talk about you as if they knew you on a personal level, an intimate level, my level. Calling you names, names that have been engraved into my heart, making dear old Grannie turn in her grave, blaming you for how hollow I’ve become, punishing you for leaving me broken, leaving me behind. But I’m the one who screwed up. You’re gone because of me. If only people had realized I was the one who pushed you off the edge. I was the one who was responsible for edging you to do what you had to. I promised to protect you and I in return but I failed. I’m a failure and God knows I’ve tried to repent.

But whenever I think of you, I feel like falling to my knees, curling up into a tight ball, wrapping my arms around my knees, hugging them to my chest, rapid breaths coming out in short pants, my head feels like a hundred men are hammering away, my chest is impossibly tight, and somehow all I remember is the cold wetness streaming down my cheeks and your name falling softly from my cold wet pale lips.

I don’t deserve a third chance. I remain invisible in this world without you beside me every morning, afternoon, night. The sun never shines without you around. The seas remain in their fit of rage, crashing with a big bang. The world seems a little more black than white. My thoughts are occupied with you. My love for you still continues to grow. I can’t let go. I can’t let go of your warmth, you smiles, your laughter, that little eyebrow raise you do when you think no one is watching, the way you blush and avert your eyes. I’m not going to stand around, waiting for the time when I can once again be with you. I’m coming for you. So just as I have done for you,

Wait for me

Some Things We WroteWhere stories live. Discover now