Misfortunate Molly: Would Heartbreak, Break You?

Chapter 30 Remembering

I become anxious very quickly. I cannot sit in here right now. Too many memories. Too many emotions. Get out! I quickly remove myself from the bed. With the notebook, pen, and picture in hand, I make my way to my room downstairs. The hallways are dark and quiet. Empty. Void of life itself.

The red yells the time at me, 12:14 am. It is now Sunday. Sunday is here.

"Fuck," I whisper to myself. I set the spiral notebook down with the pen on the bedside table. I keep the picture in my grip. Laying on the bed, I look into the picture. I can almost feel his eyes looking back into mine.

It is Sunday and I am not ready for this day any more than I was ready to come home from the hospital. Time is slipping away like a flood when the rain refuses to let up. The water taking everything in its wake, leaving devastation and destruction. I cannot seem to get a grip on anything. Not reality. Not my emotions. Hell, not even my body. Everything is in disarray.

My life is spiraling. Falling apart with speed.

I have to find a way to gain some control back. How? I have absolutely no idea. I have no center anymore. It is gone. He is gone. What will hold me in one place? Keep me grounded? What will I find to calm me? To focus me? I need to find something to concentrate on. Everything will be different from now on. It already is. Every part of my future has to be reconstructed. Changed. Fixed. Altered. UGH!

Do I still go to the college that we planned on going to together? Should I even go to college now? What do I even want to go for now? Do I want to be in this state? Should I move? If so, where? Who would I study with? Hang out with? Go shopping with? Who would I talk to?

This is bad. So bad. I cannot carry on with OUR life without him. I cannot keep OUR plans. I cannot build OUR future without him. OUR, OUR, OUR... How do I move on from our? How do I live as I or my or me?

So many thoughts of rearranging my life. The outcomes are limitless. There are so many different avenues. I am not even an adult yet. How is life supposed to get better from here on?

My mind is like a whirlpool, dragging all my thoughts into the abyss of a continuous circular motion.

These thoughts are overwhelmingly fatiguing me but I cannot seem to fall asleep. The red is my enemy chanting 1:19 am, telling me his funeral is approaching and reminding me that I still do not have anything to say. I have not picked up that pen. I do not want to look away from his eyes. I am trying to burn these eyes back into my memory, instead of the eyes that lost life in front of me. I need those eyes to disappear.

Those eyes haunt me. They imprison me. They are a constant reminder of what I did, always persuading me that I could have done something different, something to save him. I could have taken a different route or if I would have never looked away from the road, I would have seen the deer coming and been able to stop in time. Those eyes reveal everything that is now wrong in my world. They have replaced my hopes and my dreams with dread of the future. A future without Curtis.

I close my eyes and envision our relationship over the years. All the times we held hands. All the sweaters I claimed as mine. The amusement parks. The walks on the beach. Staying up all hours of the night on the phone. Our mini road trips. Family affairs. Endless seconds of studying and schoolwork. All the movies we watched together. The restaurants we went to. The holidays and summers. Our birthdays and anniversaries. Buying and opening each other's gifts. The laughter. Even the tears.

Those are what are most precious to me. So, why are all of the memories being replaced with regret and pain? Fear and frustrations? Why can I not hold on to the amazing things? The beautiful things? Why do all of them turn into his dying eyes?