It’s 4 am in the morning. She has woken up to the sound of the beating rain. She hates the rain. She sips water from the glass on the bedside table and snuggles back into her duvet and tries to fall asleep. The rain and thunder are loud and unpleasant. She knows she can’t fall asleep whilst it rains so she takes out her phone and goes on Facebook. There is a memory there. It’s his birthday. She sighs and starts to reminisce. She goes through his page. He looks good, better than she remembers. His skin glistens a bit, it is hard to tell if the photographer went to town with the highlighter tool on edit or if his skin is better hydrated. They really did have some good times. Her mouth starts to form a smile in the corners as she remembers him calling her endearing names. To this one, she was Enzo. Fast, powerful, and expensive, the object of everyone’s envy. He adored her, as she did him. He was her world and she his before it all started falling apart. Crumbling before her eyes like a cookie till there was nothing but dust. The vortex of emotions that brought her into his life, took her away, eroding deep canyons into her soul and her heart. She baptized him Two because even if he came first, he would always be second to Blue.
She gets out of bed and walks over to her study desk. She is going to try and finish that book she started on the plane home. “When Breath Becomes Air,” by Paul Kalanithi, a dead nondescript author with a heartbreaking story. Everyone is publishing these days, she thought wryly as she sat down. Her sister insisted she read it but she had been procrastinating finishing it till now. It had been 4 months since she had come home and she had buried herself in work to forget the pain she was feeling. She picks up the book, still smells new. The rain is coming down even more intensely.
She flips to her bookmark on page 54 and starts to dart her eyes on the first line but her mind wanders away and her eyes lose focus from the large print text on the page.
She had always prided herself as being very stoic and having a remarkable poker face. Underneath the facade though was a network of keloid scars woven together through years of hurt and pain. She was fond of saying that the world doesn’t stop to give you time to figure out your emotions and would urge people to “suck it up”. That system had worked perfectly for her till Blue happened. She somehow couldn’t disentangle herself from the destruction the breakup had caused. She picked up her pencil and a blank sheet of printing paper and started to write reflectively.
“Our minds can deny anything even the outward form of our existence. My brain somehow convinced me that if I dealt with this grief I would die, so as usual, I have managed to get over it albeit slowly. When you lose the one thing you’ve fought so hard to keep, your mind builds an altar somewhere in its deep recesses where the memory of that thing is preserved and honoured. If you do not actively seek to accept you have lost it, you risk losing sanity. I have never had problems detaching but Blue had me wrapped in such a bind, for a long time, that anytime I thought about ending things, I would begin to suffocate, the wind would leave my sails and I would start to sink. Writing it down is making me feel crazy now but this is a true depiction of how it would feel. I always reasoned it out. “This is a rough patch. It is not that bad. Things with Two were way worse. It will get better. I should be less dramatic. I really shouldn’t be worked up over petty things. All relationships have problems. We are still getting to know each other. I really should focus on all the good and maintain positive energy.” BARGAINING.
“Blue was a really present person. He would call first thing and the last thing of the day, he would text and he would be there. Even when the red flags would shine through I would brush away my fears. “He is really nice. He loves me so much. Things are so great and nice provided we don’t discuss the hard stuff. Oh, he’s coming to see me! He sent me the nicest gifts yesterday. He really can’t be ignoring me, he is busy at work, just like he said. He only lied because he didn’t want to hurt me and because he was scared of how I would react. He was tired over the weekend that is why he was MIA. But he obviously really loves me, he even told his friends that he does, this rough patch is nothing.” DENIAL
In November before I had the courage to say this to him, I wrote on my computer in a long-winded email to him “It is not going to work out. It is going to hurt to walk away but it is the right thing to do. There is really nothing left to preserve this and it is time I said goodbye.” ACCEPTANCE.
Tears have started to flow and her sheet of paper has big blobs of eye dew on them. She keeps writing trying to find her way beyond Blue.
“It has been so long and it just occurred to me that it was never real. He was never actually planning to be with me long term. This was a game to him. It was a game to him. He won. He came in, swept me off my feet, and in the most callous way pulled away. I wanted things to work so bad that I didn’t take time to be analytical as I usually would. He told one brazen lie and another and another. Everything he thought I wanted to hear he said, and I in response poured out all the love I had to give. He took the very last piece of me, then scoffed as I fell apart when he pulled away. What a Jerk!” ANGER.
Light starts to seep through her curtains. She glances at her watch it is 6 am. She has to get ready to go to work. Lately, she has barely slept full nights. A shadow has gathered around her eyes and her appetite has eluded her. She gets into the bathroom and stands on the scale, 53KG. She’s lost another kilo this week. The warm water runs across her bronze skin. Her head hurts a little from the lack of sufficient sleep. She finishes her shower, jumps into her closet, and picks a lovely floral dress for the day. She picks her packed lunch, bids her house manager goodbye, and starts on the drive to work. As she waits for the lights to turn green at the turnoff joining the main highway she notices a truck speeding down the highway. She places her foot on the gas and drives into the road towards her end. DEPRESSION.