Waves

42

And then it hits me.

I miss her. A lot.

It's the truth.

I have kept saying to myself that it doesn't hurt that much, but I was wrong. It hurts a lot.She was the first woman I loved and the first I got to know. I have known her all my life and I still do, but it's not the same. I call her number sometimes hoping she will pick up the call, but she doesn't and I know that she never will again. Because she is gone. Forever.

I go and visit her sometimes and I tell her what had happened since she left, even though I know she won't, she can't, reply. I've told her about the new school I go to and all the new friends I have. How everyone accepts me for who I am and how all the teachers actually care about how it's going for me.

I've told her about the time when I played the piano for the whole school. All of the people in my school. But she has never heard me play. When I found out that her favourite band and my favourite DJ made a song together and how amazing it was. I played the song for her and I know that if she could hear it, she would have loved it. But she can't hear it and that bothers me. 

When I walk away from her grave I have tears running down my cheeks. They are warm compared to the cold air that's around me. I look up at the sky hoping for a sign that I'm not alone in this sorrow. I know that more people than I miss her, but no one talks about it. It breaks my heart that it is like she never was here at all. Like she never even was alive.

I'm walking my way to the bus when I see someone with a pink beanie. It looks similar to the one she had. The one she had that one day.

We were at the pond in the city. The one full of ducks and swans. I had some bread that she had bought for me earlier that day. We walked to a bench that was by the pond and not after we seated us, the birds came walking toward us. I started to take small pieces of the bread and started feeding them. They all were quacking and some even jumped up on the bench. Then when I handed out some bread to this one duck, it bit me. It hurt and my finger began to turn red, but it wasn't bleeding. She blew on my finger and told me that everything would be okay, and I believed her. Because at that moment everything was going to be okay.

Every time after that when we went to that pond, we joked about it. I mean, an actual duck bit me! Do they even have teeth? I still laugh at it sometimes when I walk past that pond, but it isn't the same anymore. It hurts to think of that memory. 

On my way home from the bus stop, I walk past our local supermarket and decide to go and buy milk from there since I know that I need. As I walk in I see one of her old friends. He doesn't see me at first, but not soon after he notices me and waves with a friendly but broken smile. I feel like I have to go and talk to him, so I do. He asks me how I've been and what's happening even though we only last met 3 days ago. He doesn't say a word about her, so I do. I know that he misses her a lot just like me, but we don't need to keep shutting her out just because she isn't with us anymore. I explain that to him as tears start to fall down on his cheeks. He goes in for a hug and then we just stand there. 

Two broken people hugging in a supermarket, crying and trying to comfort each other. 

We decide that we'll meet later this day, probably in the evening to go visit her. I don't tell him that I've already been there earlier today. When I go to stand in the queue for the cash register I take a pack of chewing gum. Spearmint, her favourite, even though it's too strong for me. on my way home I eat one. I spit it out almost directly as soon as I've put it in my mouth, but it reminds me of her so I take another one and this time I don't spit it out. Because even though I cry every time I think of her I still like to think of her. She has existed, just like me, and I never want to forget her just because she isn't with us anymore. I will think of her as often as I can regardless of how much it hurts me. 

When I get home I go get the letter she wrote to me before she was taken away from me. It is handwritten. I could tell that she had cried when she wrote it because of the small water drops marks on the bottom of the paper.

"Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers simple"

That is the last thing she wrote. And I agree, but not when it comes to her. Why did she have to leave? Is that such a complicated question?

I miss her. A lot.

It's the truth.

I have kept saying to myself that it doesn't hurt that much, but I was wrong. It hurts a lot. She was the first woman I loved and my first heartbreak. I have known her all my life and I still do, but it's not in the same way anymore. I call her number sometimes hoping she will pick up the call, but she doesn't and I know that she never will again. Because she is gone. Forever.