“When it is dark and quite I think I hear things! Things that I shouldn’t hear. Things that tell me to quit . Almost every night I want to give up. I see nothing except memories. It’s like teasing myself with my own memories. And I am the one who laughed at me. I want to cry, someday I actually cry. Though there are no visible tears now. I cry like no one should, because I don’t actually cry. I just sit back and watch the walls and I keep seeing it until it’s morning. Until I have to get up, brush my teeth, get dressed up, fake a smile and go to work and other places.This cycle continues till I get real sick or tired. And finally I can sleep without thinking of anything. It feels like my body is begging to me for some sleep.Then I sleep for days.
Sometimes I don’t eat for days. A day or two later my head starts spinning but I still don’t eat, I don’t feel like eating. I don’t feel hungry anymore, though I remember being a foodie .
There are days when I can’t get out of my house, the day light bothers me.
The Last day I went to a shop and bought two bottles of sleeping pills, again. I don’t know why I am collecting them anyway. Now when I sit on my terrace I want to jump, but I don’t ! I can’t !
When I cross the roads I close my eyes . And suddenly open them in the middle of the road. Maybe it’s like wanting to die but don’t have enough courage to do anything.
Maybe one day I would actually die. And I know that I would leave a perfect life behind me, I could have lived it happily. But I didn’t. I really didn’t. I didn’t want to anymore.
I said, I could not live without you . But I didn’t die after you left. I am living, I am living anyway.
My heart should have stopped beating right after you left, but it’s beating anyway.
I know you are angry with me, you would have beaten me if you were here. You would have scolded me for not eating, not sleeping, not laughing the same anymore. What else can I do? I said that, I could not live without you but I am living anyway. Isn’t that already enough?
You shouldn’t have leave me like this. I hate you.
If I knew you would leave me like this, I would have hugged you and never ever leave. I wouldn’t let you go. I would hold you like the dying ocean holds it’s last drop of water.
But I couldn’t.
P.s – I love you. “
This one folded letter held more agonies than she could even wrote. Words were never enough for her. But she wrote every year for him.
It was letter number seven. She recited the letter to him herself. She was crying while reading.
Time passed. It was time to leave.
She kissed his grave. And she kissed again, this time a little longer.