A moment.

1 Dec

There was a day one year ago from this moment I’ll forever remember and regret. It was a day I realized, life is truly and utterly but a minute in this grand scheme of plans and purposes, and that at any moment it can change, it can flip on you, and it can be lost. To this day I still feel the pain of that evening. I remember losing my grip and hearing my phone hit the ground with a thud, but after that I didn’t hear anything else, I only heard death. For most people, hearing death isn’t perceived possible. But if you hear it once, you know the sound when it bellows and groans through your ears again.

I don’t even want to write this right now, but I guess Cecile’s right; writing it down may help me to understand and process the feelings.  How do you process something you can’t accept? Do I have to accept it?

Monica placed her pen down in the center of her newly opened composition book. It slid down towards her stomach and she closed the book. She sighed and rested her head in the palm of her hand as she sat curled in the dining room chair. She’d thought because it was raining maybe opening up old wounds and releasing the demons would be easier, but truthfully it had only made it harder to not surrender in tears. She glanced down at her Sidekick to try and bring her mind back to less heavy thoughts. And after that: she turned on music. And after that: she began to cook. Twenty-five minutes later she sat down to eat, and just, sat. And after that: she threw her plate, letting her handiwork of food paint the wall a new creation. The rain was loud now, and far more of a reminder of the past than she inferred. Monica turned off the music, threw the cd across her empty bedroom, and crumbled to the floor.  After that, she cried.


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