December 20th, 2013
That ringing… That damn wretched ringing! That piercing sound from the machines haunts me, as it blared in to the cold night, trumpeting your departure from me. Those wales and tears would be the last deep emotional expression from me, for a long time after. Six years without any real expression. I knew facing the reality of your death would kill me, as it eventually would, so I suppressed and avoided it’s confrontation. Such a cowardly and ill act of me. Meanwhile, your last coherent words angered me for many years. Before the babbling of nonsense took control of your vocabulary. Spitefully pissed at your lie for years. How could something you said to me in love and care, upset me so much so many years later. The promise you made that we would have our wedding in the following spring, you didn’t follow through with. How could I have ever expected you to? You knew you were going to die. We both did. Blatantly arrogant and lying in the face of death. You were always braver than I was. My bravery wouldn’t find me until I was left alone without you. I should have been the one comforting you, with lies of love and comfort in your final moments. I should have been the one to tell you goodnight stories, describing the details of how wonderful our spring would be together. But regret fills my heart that I never got the chance. I have forever been incapable of such a things, moments of misrepresenting the truth. Perhaps that’s what I am really angry about, is my inabilities to carry out that loving act. I couldn’t forgive you that you left me. All alone to deal with the mess of emotions that your departure caused. I felt abandoned and alone, especially since you took our unborn daughter with you. Betrayed. I kept pleading, “just five more minutes. Please! Just five more minutes…” Five more minutes to see you, to spend with you, embracing you tightly in my arms. Never wanting to let go. Something I did the time immediately following your time on this existence had ended. I would have done anything for those five more minutes, but that bargaining was a lonely desperation. I could only hold your lifeless and limp body against mine, as I felt what warmth was left seep out. The man you made me in to, would not survive that night. Left to rot away in the body that was left behind, for six full years. The cold air from that winter night and the hospital would linger in me. Six years until my emotions would resurrect. As painful as it was, I had to relive that night. Over and over again. To nullify your loss’s control over my subconscious. To relive through the development of our love and to finally be able to put in to words our final moments together in painting and now here in to writing, barely sober of tears. It’s my last testament of healing. To finally lay you to rest, even past you being buried for so long. I will forever love you, but now is the time to finally let you go… Your story is finally told. Goodbye, my dear sweet AJ.
