And so I let you go...
And I hear from time to time how it takes your breath away when the sun comes over the mountains on the horizon. And how pure each new day feels when you see the sun dip below the water and come up so fresh and new.
But where am I, when we were supposed to be sharing these adventures together?
They all say you talk about me, but won't really ever tell me what it is you've said.
Do you think about me often? I do hope you think of me fondly.
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Pulling the blankets tighter around her, she shivered and opened one eye to the strip of sunlight that had made it past her curtains and fallen directly on her face. One day she'd remember to close the curtains completely. And one day she'd remember to put enough fire in the fireplace to keep warm till she woke. And it's not like she was always forgetting to do those things. She just forgot on the nights she tipped back the wine bottle.
Throwing the covers off and standing slowly, she made her way from couch to kitchen with every footfall sending jolts of pain to her temples. She groaned inwardly and gritted her teeth. Just a few more steps.... and soon the teapot was on the stove. She sat on the counter and watched the hands on the clock, getting lost in thought. It'd been one of those nights, where his memory haunted her and she did the only thing she could think of to get him off her mind. Where was he this week? Bora Bora maybe? Or perhaps another trip to Amsterdam. Their friends told her he had loved it there. Perhaps she would have loved it, too, if she had gone.
At first she didn't notice the whistling teapot, but as the noise got louder, it jolted her from her reverie and she removed the little kettle from the stove, pouring the water into her mug of waiting tea leave, measured and dispensed into their special infuser. 5 minutes later she was sipping the brew with neither sugar nor milk as she normally would, needing the strength to bring her back to life.
The cup of tea joined her in the bathroom, where she shed her negligee and stepped into a steaming hot shower to scald and scrub away all her past regrets and painful memories. In the back of her mind, a little voice mentioned that, perhaps she should have taken a few aspirin with her tea. But she had little time to dwell on that when she heard her phone ringing and that little voice wondered, could it be him? But no, as the answering machine picked up and beeped, it was Catherine's voice she heard, reminding her about lunch later because "if I don't remind you about these things, I end up sitting there all by myself for 2 hours thinking maybe this time you're just running a little late." She sighed heavily and let the water run over her face. If only she had taken a bath instead, she could have submerged her head under the water and not had to listen.
Several hours later, she was sitting across from Catherine at the local cafe, a little place all the hipster teens and "true individuals" frequented; where the coffee was over priced and the croissants were never as fluffy as they boasted. She nodded her head at the right times and made the appropriate responses when necessary, but her mind was elsewhere. They said that if you found yourself considering suicide as your last way out, you should do all the things you wanted to do but were always held back from. But there was nothing she wanted to do that she wanted to do without him. And living was one of those things....
"Annie? Annie! You haven't really been listening to a word I say, have you? I swear, I don't know what's happened to you, but I...." At first the strict force behind her name had caught her attention, but slowly she drifted away, blocking out the lecture she knew she was getting. Standing abruptly, she caught her friend off guard. "I'm sorry Catty, but I'm just in the mood for any of this right now." And with that, she turned on her heel and headed home, head held high for the first time in a long time because, finally she had a purpose.
At home, she looked around the house and smiled softly to herself. He used to do this for her, leaving little sticky notes all over the house for her to find, little love notes and reminders. But this time, it wasn't love letters and reminders. It was her suicide note. Several little ones. Apologies and explanations and excuses.
"I tried..."
"I'm sorry..."
"Tell him I never forgot him..."
Satisfied with the state of things in her apartment, she closed the door to the bathroom and approached the tub of warm water, slipping in slowly until only her head was not submerged. The water felt nice, almost reassuring and more comforting than any of her friends had been these past few months. She slid her fingertip gingerly along the edge of the blade, watched the red swirl out and dissipate in the water as she reveled in the feeling.... Yes, feeling. She could feel. And though it hurt, it surely did not hurt any worse than she had been hurting on the inside. Placing the razor on the inside of her wrist, she closed her eyes and in one swift movement, pushed and pulled the blade up her arm toward her elbow, letting out a little moan of pain but sticking to it until the red was no longer dissipating, but turning the water to it's brilliant shade. Her arm throbbed and stung, but she smiled and relaxed her head against the tub. It was all over now. Finally, she was erasing his memory. Finally, she was through with all this pain.
She had once known that she lived for something, and it had been him. Now that she no longer had him, she no longer had reason to live. She no longer had any purpose. Her final purpose, to end her existence, was coming to a close. And somehow, this felt just like she imagined each new day felt to him when he saw the sun dip below the water and come up again so fresh and new. It felt pure
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