GRIEF
ANNA
The first day without him, everything felt so gloomy and meaningless. I had the impression that I was a prisoner in my own home at this point. But not just any prisoner, but one locked in horrific detention for all time.
I didn't want to forget him, so I didn't want to stop thinking about him. I only wanted his memories to linger in me always. I would miss him, but for the time being I just had to accept that he was gone. There was still a small part of me that thought he would arrive bouncing around the house, smiling.
Digging deep into my memories, I felt as if I hadn’t told him enough that I loved him. I felt the weight of the situation in each of my limbs. He should have been here to share my joy and my sorrow.
He should have assisted me in cooking, gathered all of our friends, looked up that large house we intended to move into, but most importantly, he should have been here to give me a goodnight kiss and a hug before I left for work.
Now, all I had was a gravestone bearing his name and pointing to the lifeless body beneath the ground. My complete trust was in God and His promise that He would bring us together when my life came to an end.
This went beyond sobbing and mourning. This was giving up everything I stood for and I represented. My social life came to an end, and I started a lonely existence. I had chosen myself and would live honorably for as long as I could. I also chose to build a shell for myself and retire inside of it.
As tangible as the icy winds of the recently finished late winter was the pain that rushed through me. When sighs failed to appear, tears did. I was overwhelmed with weeping when the agony finally struck me. Where are you? Why won't you respond to me? What happened to you? I would scream so loudly inside of my broken mind, but there was never any response.
I sobbed till there was just a raw emptiness left inside of me. The sun was still shining on the deep blue sky, and the birds were still singing in bursts of wonderful sounds, but not for me because I had lost all sense of beauty in this world.
On a few instances, I thought I heard the phone ring, but my frozen body was so stiff from this grief that breathing ached. My pain took the place of reality, and numerous flashbacks overwhelmed all of my lifeless senses. I recalled all the times he smiled, which was an accurate depiction of joy and a symphony of love, our love, which died with him. My soul washed in a torrent of memories, leaving behind a splash of longing for his scent.
It was only the first night without him, yet the world no longer felt magical. The sky no longer felt limitless but a cold, blue expanse which was too incomprehensible to me. Â I felt as though I was dead inside, withering away like a flower deprived of both light and water because I didn't want to move on. Simply wanted to keep his memories alive inside of me to the point that it consumed me.
Every memory was a song that was playing over and over in my head, seemingly forever. I was confused because I had lost a significant part of myself and was unable to get it back, despite my fervent desire to do so as if my life depended on it.
In my stillness, the world turned into a loud noise that I wanted to escape from. I felt like a ghost in a world of rag dolls, a ghost in my own body, running from time and space.
For hours, I would feel nothing but the urge to move quickly forward and get through this experience without feeling anything; then, out of nowhere, I would be on the floor sobbing and shaking from the depths of my heartfelt sorrow.
I fought my way into a deep, dark space where everything was consumed, including me. Nothing to soothe my empty spirit, which retreated into the shadows far from other people because it could not stand to maintain the façade that everything was going to be okay.
The fifth time my phone rang, I made the decision to pick up and make it my last.
"Anna, oh my God, are you alright? Why don't you pick up the phone?"
I would be unable to respond to all the questions at once. I only needed Emily to confirm that I was still alive so that everyone would know.
And that was it; I hung up the phone and collapsed to the ground like a withered leaf. I spoke to someone for the last time just now. My home turned into a jail, a place of solace for my suffering, and an altar. I hurried to every window in the house and pulled the drapes in a fit of desperation. I did not want anyone to see me and feel sorry for me. I wished to remain isolated from the outer world.
I would stop working as a teacher, put an end to all of my social interactions, and would sink deeply into my sorrow and anxiety. I didn't want company; the best remedy right now was solitude. In reality, my tears were what kept my soul alive in the crucible of my suffering. My protective walls suddenly fell down, leaving me exposed and terrified.
I was able to better understand myself through crying. Even my mirror failed to identify me. I was fighting with myself to stay intact as I struggled with my slightly ruffled hair that was still put back into a loose ponytail and my mascara that had already dried and left tiny black traces along my eyes. In an effort to contain the tears that were about to start flowing once more, I bit my tongue. However, after that, my eyes deceived me, and I saw him holding me from behind.
At that point, I was unable to control them any longer. As they rolled off my chin and disappeared down my cheek like tiny crystal orbs, I felt their warmth. Eventually, they rained down on my eyes like rain, one after the other.
Once more, I crumpled to the ground, this time with my hands tightly around my waist. Because I was so close to the ground, it was the only place I felt secure.
The man I shared my life with was there when I closed my eyes, but he had already vanished along with it all. In these moments, he had been more real than every breath I was taking because I had connected with a side of him that nobody else, not even his family, knew about and had seen a side of his soul that he never let out for everyone to see, just me.
I screamed for him and stretched out my hands to grab him, but he was nowhere to be seen. And as I yearned for him, missed him, and tried to adjust to his agonizing absence, my world became far darker than it had ever been. The thing that pained me the most was losing my baby, who I had believed would be the sole thing to support me and relieve my suffering. Although my pregnancy wasn't too far along, Emily took care of the formalities because I was so absent.
I already had a dead soul. The tiny being inside of me turned away from the anguish and followed Marco. My husband was no longer by himself at this point. Our child was with him.