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It’s the first morning after her death. You don’t remember falling asleep, but you can feel the dried tears on your cheeks.
You don’t know what time or day it is. It feels like time has stopped when her parents called you. Or maybe it stopped alongside her heart. You don’t know anymore.
Every minutes without her, you blame yourself a little more. Maybe if you reached out more that day. You’ll never know.
You feel like an hollow, walking without noise, without any feelings.
The first day, you don’t stay alone. Because you know that’s not the right thing to do. You go with your friends to the last place she was. The place where she decided to end it. Watching people walking on this bridge, and cars driving under it makes you uneasy. How can they act like nothing happened here. Do they don’t know ?
You keep wondering what was her last thought ? Was she scared ? Was she happy or relieved ?
You’ll keep wondering.
You feel like you’ve never cried like that before. Or maybe when you were a baby. Crying at your birth, and now at her death.
Every memory with her come rushing in your head. You are searching for pictures, for letters, for gifts, anything that will remind you of her.
The first week, you barely get up. You don’t go to school, you can’t. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep and barely talk. It feels like you disappeared with her. You don’t know what to feel anymore. Are you allowed to be happy ? Would she want that ? Or would she be mad at you.
The picture you hanged by your bed is haunting you. You can’t escape her, but at the same time, you don’t forget her face.
You already forgot her voice, even though you look at old pictures and videos all the time. You don’t want her face to slip out of you mind. You won’t allow it.
The second week, you go back to school. You can’t keep avoiding it. But the second you walk in the classroom, you can feel the looks, the whispers and the gentle smiles.
You turn around and run without looking back. You spent the rest of the day crying in the bathroom.
The week goes by. You dont listen when teachers spoke, you don’t take notes, but you are here. That’s the first step.
Then, you decide to organize a ceremony for her. At the school. The same school that made her life a living hell. But you can’t let them forget her.
So you organize everything. You invite teachers, classmates, and of course her parents.
When you speak, you can’t stop the tears. But you don’t break. Not in front of everyone, you can’t.
At the end, her parents thank you for the ceremony.
And you stay there. In this little church, that you saw perhaps thousands times since you first visited this school, 13 years ago. But now a new picture is added to the autel.
You then wait for the funeral. You feel like you’re going crazy. It’s taking so long, you’re stuck wondering why.
You can’t move on. You still don’t know where her body is. You can’t ask.
Her mom calls you. You know now the date. They ask if you want to speak. You agree. Again.
Once you’re in the church of you city, you take the hands of you friends by your side. The first tears fall when they bring in the casket. You can’t tear your eyes away from it. She’s right here, but so far away.
Her dad starts his speech. The tears fall again. He’s mourning his baby. He talks about the first time he saw her at the maternity, and the last time he saw her, that fateful day.
It’s your turn. You have to get up. Your legs are trembling. You can’t look at anyone. Your voice is wobbly, but you stay strong. again.
At the end, her family, some friends, some teachers smile at you, praising your speech. You don’t answer them.
The funeral is over. She’s now buried. So why can’t you move one.
Why do it feel like this cut in your heart will never heal ?
Why do you cry every night ?
You know that you will mourn her longer than you knew her. And that breaks you.
Three months went by. Her parents invite you to their home. As soon as you walk into her room, you smell her scent. Nothing has changed since last time you were there. The same pictures, the same clothes, the same sheets.
But the colors are now faded. But maybe it’s not just her room, maybe it’s the whole world.
You cry a lot but you also laugh. Seeing her parents did you some good.
You want to tell them that they are not alone, that you’ll be there. But can’t bring yourself to say that. So you just smile.
Realizing that one day, you’ll be older than her is terrible. Because why do you continue you life, while she doesn’t ?
She’s gone but she didn’t disappear. Not from your memories at least.
Every time you see the sunset, a specific color, some butterflies, or hear a song she used to listen, she’s there.
She will continue to live throughout your memories.
Because what is a person if not memory ?
What is grief without love ?
What is love without nostalgia ?
What is nostalgia without sadness ?
It’s been only three months, but you’re starting to heal. It’s not easy, it’s a long road. But you’re not alone. And you know that you’ll find her in the next life time, and this time you’ll make her stay.