Hello my love,
It's been another two days since I've last written you. I don't seem to have the strength to hold a pencil for too long, nor do I have to desire to dwell in the fact that you won't ever get to read this.
I have realized that I dwelled too much in the possibility of you coming back, when there really wasn't any. Albeit, I'm not sure if this is the antidepressants talking or if its my mind finally coming to terms with the fact that you're really gone.
Dr. Rockfield came to visit me today and we had a session inside my dreary hospital room. For the first time, no tears came to my eyes. There was no overwhelming sense of sorrow or guilt. Not even the rising of my pulse at the thought of holding you in my arms.
If anything at all, I feel numb. Empty. Void of any emotion at all.
She and I, we talked for a good half hour about what went on four days ago. And how I think that I could move on from what I'd tried to do; how I'd pick up the pieces of the life that I'd left behind after you died.
She left without me coming to a conclusion, but for some reason, she thinks that I'm starting to get a good head on my shoulders.
I still feel so, so hopeless without you. We were just about to settle down and start what we'd always dreamed about.
A life. The perfect life. One where we were going to get married, buy that little house you always adored from afar and fill it with things we loved. Like the knick-knacks you bought or would buy on our adventures across the world. Or with the artwork of our future children. You'd told me that you wanted a baby girl. And I had agreed (despite the fact that I'd imagined a boy) as long as she grew up to be just like you.
How do you just pick up your life, when everything you planned has been taken away from you? After everything you had ever dreamed gets thrown out the window, and people just expect you to simply forget? Do they think it's easy to push your entire life into a box, tuck it away in a place you'll never see it again and start over?
That would almost be like cutting off your own head and trying to sew it back on again. The matter of the fact is, you're already dead. There isn't a way to take back death, whether you try to fix it or not.
That is exactly how I feel though.
Like a dead man walking without anywhere to go.
-Jacson
(P.s. I wish you were here to give me advice. I never doubted the way you approached problems and God, would I give anything to overcome this.)
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I updated finally? It's kinda sloppy and needs to be edited but whatever.
Is anybody still reading this? :o
If you are, thanks! I love you even if you're a ghost reader!
-Rosey
YOU ARE READING
left unsaid.
القصة القصيرةLetters from a man who once loved with all his heart, to the woman who will forever have his heart, even though she will never have the chance to read them. -- *Trigger warning* This story includes themes of depression and attempts at suicide.
