A letter I’ll never write
My world,
I check for you every time I come online. It's been years and everything still hurts like it was yesterday. They say time's supposed to heal every wound but I say time amplifies it. Time makes it hard to breathe when you wake up in the middle of the night, covered in a pool of your sweat, shivering from a nightmare where you watched the love of your life die before they died.
I cry for you to stay, to not die, and it takes a while to realize I'm alone. To realize I've been alone for five years now and nothing has changed. It hasn't gotten any better even though it's supposed to. Your clothes don't carry any scent of you anymore and your cologne doesn't smell the same without the addition of your sweat.
How do I say I miss you and I'm broken by your absence without saying so?
I kept your toothbrush for a while after you left, hoping to brush you into me, hoping that our merging would make it easier to go through life shakily. But even when you were here it wasn't enough. It was never enough. The illness made sure of that.
Last night I tripped on the top of the stairs and as I tumbled, bones breaking and all, I hoped this would be it. That it would be the last time I had to wake up without you beside me. I hoped your spirit would accept me the way it frowns at me everytime I stand in front of the mirror with a blade to my wrist.
I'm lying on the hospital bed writing this now and it hurts to breathe. This time, the pain is more physical than emotional, and I like it that way. Life is easier when you're numb and have occasional physical pain to remind you of how alive you are. To remind you to live.
Two months ago when I thought I couldn't take it anymore I bought a sniper from the convenience store down the street. Remember the one we first met? Yes. I think the cashier knew because when he handed me back my card his eyes were a bit sad.
I got home and tried but I couldn't. I couldn't. All I heard around me was "you promised." Yes, I did, but it's hard when you're not here, babe. It's harder when you're not fully gone. When you're here but I can't reach you. I'm desperate. I'm panicking. I don't know.
I want to say you promised you'd never leave but we know life is fickle. Plans and people change and things happen. But I love you, babe. And I miss you.
I hope I'm still here when you come out. I'll try, but then, I can't promise. Life is fickle and it's hard to keep holding on when there's no hope. Hope is what makes the world go round.
Yours forever,
Rachael.
