Picture 2
JB Lacaden’s Picture Choice: 1
Title: Longing
I open my eyes and I wake up to a brand new day. In an instant, the pain washes over me like a huge tidal wave. My head feels like it's being split open by a vodka flavored butcher knife. I close my eyes but all it does is bring me to darkness and in the darkness I see her face swimming. The pain's coming from all over and I'm not sure if I'm just imagining some of them or not. It scares me. I scare me.
I feel like throwing up and crying and screaming all at the same time. Everything's wrong. Her not being here is wrong. It hurts. The strong feeling of longing floods my chest and they pour out of my eyes. My cheeks burn with tears and I do nothing to wipe them away. Her side of the bed's untouched. It has been for five months now. Five fucking months and the pain's as strong as it was during day one.
At around this time, the smell of pancakes should be drifting all around. My small studio apartment is supposed to be filled with the sound of The Beatles. At around this time, she's supposed to be waking me up with a kiss on the cheek. And if that didn't work, she'd try kissing me on the lips. And if that didn't work, she'd just lie on the bed with me - her arms wrapped around me. Most of the times, I just pretended to be asleep still just so I'd be able to be with her for a few more minutes.
Funny how life turns everything upside down. It dangles a shiny object in front of you and you get attracted to it. You chase after it and when you have finally caught up, life pulls it up and takes you with it. You’re flying! But in a blink of an eye you’re no longer holding on to anything. You’re flying but you’re falling. You know? Falling starts off just like that. You thought you’re flying at first but you’re actually plummeting down at the speed of gravity. Then splat! You’re pancake on the pavement. One minute you’re at cloud nine, the next you’re getting drunk every night and crying or throwing up or both the next morning.
I force myself up. Today’s a Wednesday. I drag myself out of bed and I walk towards the bathroom. I feel myself crumbling away - pieces of me cracking and falling to the ground. Five months and nothing's changing. They say time fixes everything but I feel like the hands of time right now has arthritis. Sometimes, I wish for the brand new days to never come. But I’m scared to off myself. I’ve been thinking about it. God knows how much I’ve been considering the idea. But I guess I just don’t have the balls to do it and I wake up to another god forsaken brand new day.
I turn off the shower and I dry myself with a white towel. Inside my bedroom I start putting on my work clothes. At around this time, she's supposed to be tying my tie around my neck. This time, I do it myself. I tighten the knot and I take an aspirin for my headache. I walk to a small drawer sitting at the foot of my bed. I strike a match and I light a big fat candle sitting on top the drawer. I place the candle beside her photograph. Her smile’s been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It always will be.
At around this time, she's supposed to be giving a kiss goodbye before I leave for work. But not this time.
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JB Lacaden dreams of someday being a published writer. He currently resides in Manila, Philippines. He's a lover of comic books, science fiction, and high fantasy. Check out some of his works at http://www.jblearnstowrite.com/ and follow him at @jblearnstowrite.
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I'm feeling sad, such an emotional, powerful read. I want him to be happy again but feel he has such a long way to go to get over her death. xx
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