The tomb of loss

I love you too

- What do you like most? Mornings or evenings?

- Evenings, she replied. I've always loved them.

- Oh, that's interesting, I like mornings because I always spend them with you. 

As I sat there blinking towards the ceiling, tears started pouring from my eyes onto my pillowcase. I didn't know why I was remembering this so suddenly, but I did know why it hurt so much. It had been 2 years since I lost my mom and the pain was as sharp as ever. I missed her so much.

I predicted that losing her would mean losing myself as I knew we had the same beating heart, but I never thought recovering from that would be nearly impossible over time. I mean it's said that time heals everything... so when? how? Nothing is healing.

I sometimes felt my soul slipping like slime, with nowhere to go, because the shell that was holding it into this beautiful shape was no longer there. I had to find a new shape, a new hard shell that would help me hold on in life... But what if I don't want it? Can I just live... with a slime soul? As funny as that sounds.

The shift I had from being in love with Gus in that dream, being scared and then remembering this moment from my life was very abrupt. It was like being excited to do bungee jumping, having the courage to throw yourself, and then realizing there is no rope holding you.

 "A rollercoaster of emotions" is a very cliche thing to write or say, but it's such an accurate description. I knew that every rollercoaster is well thought out to spike your adrenaline, to give you all the sensations - but seriously, who the f**k designed this s**t?

I strongly wanted to stop crying, but there was no way my body would listen. I got up and forced myself to drink some water, thinking that a change of activity would stop the storm of pain in my chest. It didn't. I continued to cry silently on a chair next to my bed, with my knees on my chest. At a certain point, I got exhausted and went back to bed, wrapped myself up in a blanket like a burrito and tried to think about the most ordinary things. My job, how my shoes were smelling after washing them, how the bacteria was spreading around, wondered why flies existed... They must have a purpose, everything does. 

It was 6 in the morning and half of the dream I had was long gone. The sun was rising with the same speed as my eyelids were closing. As I drifted all I could hear was my mother's sweet voice saying for the last time "I love you too".