A Story On Love, Loss, & Healing
Karma lied.
Staring deep into the abyss of darkness surrounding my little primed sorority-themed room, feeling the gentle caress of the wind on my skin, attempt to kiss dry, the oceans of pain on my blotched face and heaving heart.
I’ve heard of a quicker way to end it all, it stares me in the face by the nightstand just inches away from my aching fingers but somehow, leaving this paradise of misery has become too difficult with each torrent that runs down my cheeks.
I blame the commandment I believed in, the omniscient one that knows it all and preaches how to love and live; the one that says, ‘never get too attached to anyone unless they feel the same way towards you because one-sided expectations can destroy you’.
Yes, that very same commandment that didn’t say how devastating it would be to lose the same person that feels the same way towards you.
My fingers dug deep into the fluffy pillows, now drained in misery, as memories assail my mind again, for the thousandth time in one week.
Taking walks was a therapeutic routine for a small-town girl with big dreams because it gave room to explore, with the streets as a canvas to paint those elaborate dreams.
The sun on my face and the wind whipping around my raven dark hair into my eyes was always the highlight of my evenings while I drew my plans in layers with a goofy smile.
Lost inside my magical world, I didn’t see reality making a beeline for me with screeching tires grazing the sidewalk and horrified voices shrieking in terror, praying there was enough of me left to take home to my Dad when the collision occurred.
Nothing.
It didn’t happen because strong arms yanked me off the sidewalk in a millisecond before the hit, falling backward onto the pavement and landing heavily on my arm, hollering in pain as I felt the bones lodge out of place.
Although there weren’t any maimed body parts, the incident changed the course of my life forever.
The minute visited the hospital, looking guilty and sinful as hell when he said, “Hi, I’m Abel, the guy who rescued you three days ago,” with a warm smile that would melt even the devil’s heart, I knew I was sold – despite the pain.
It began with the get-well-soon flowers, the visits after work, marking my caste with his name, and of course, stalking my apartment downtown with the excuse of keeping me safe from myself.
Abel made the world seem small in comparison to his large heart, always wanting to give more than he received; his reason, he’d say was ‘the need to heal this broken world, one act of love and kindness at a time.
Only, it wasn’t true.
Abel’s heart wasn’t so large or strong, it was beautiful, fragile, and broken, so, he chose to fill it with all the love he had, giving out a part of himself with every act of kindness he did.
He didn’t share his pain with the world he gave freely to, he didn’t let me in on his struggle. He fought the good fight in silence.
We found each other and it was so real, you could touch it if you knew us. I loved with everything and he held back nothing in return, giving as much as he received, our lives filled with purity and warmth.
The day he took the knee, the flowers withered and our lives crumbled.
I opened my eyes, the decision already made.
The commandment I believed in taught nothing about grief, it also didn’t say it would feel like my heart was ripped out of my chest and battered repeatedly, then shoved back inside to repeat the process.
Outside that door was seated people who think they understand and know what I’m going through, taking turns to come in here and smooth back my hair with small talk and promises of an easier tomorrow.
A tomorrow without Abel.
I can’t wait for that tomorrow, it’s absurd to think this feeling will ever go away, knowing I will always live with the remainder of the life we created together, a family we would never be and a broken home where this life form will never know his father.
A child conceived of love but born into pain.
My hands shook, unsteady as I grabbed hold of the tiny white striped and yellow labeled bottle, unscrewing the cork, ready to take that journey, when the glinting silver sky shined its light upon my fingers, drawing my hazy gaze to it.
I could hear his voice, smiling as he said, “This will be an everlasting symbol of my love for you, Grace. Never take it off. I marked you unintentionally the first time we met; this time, I’m doing it with all my heart.”
The tremors began to wreck through my body as my left palm grazed the wide scar on my right arm, feeling as though the touch of another was right there with me, holding me close in a soothing way.
Somewhere in the dark, I heard it, the soft, reassuring voice saying, “I’ll always be with you,” while I searched in frantic madness, screaming “I can’t do this alone, I need to end this. Don’t stop me, don’t –,” and he was right there with me.
The familiar woody scent drew me out of my trance and I bucked against the shoulders holding me close.
“Dad? I croaked, feeling the bottle slip out of my fingers and drop to the tiled floor with a thud.
“It’s all right baby girl; daddy will always be here. I’ll always be here for you, Grace. Please, child, please my daughter, you’re all I have left in this world. Oh my God.”
I collapsed into his hands, surrendering to his warmth as the wracking sobs took over.
Karma lied about love and loss.
Karma lied about loss and pain.
Karma lied about everything.
Death takes away the very essence of life from the living and leaves you at the mercy of the fangs of misery.