The week after
The smell of loss still reeked from his soul. After a week Adrian understood that his voice was a scream and his eyes a plea to the universe to make it all a simple, scary dream, and that he wakes up knowing Susan is still alive. He couldn't quite recall what he was doing the past week. He spent whole nights in clubs alone at the bar, drinking his pain away, and paying for that with his soul. How many times he wished that the illness took him as well. Heartless in a loveless, decaying world. That was not a way to live your life. His room, in a tower among the grayness, stank of alcohol and more often than not he used to find bruises and scratches on his body for which he couldn't remember where did he get them.
How could he go on? He knew he couldn't fully recover from this. Ever. The only thing left was to pick up the pieces of his broken heart and try to move on.
For the first time after the accident, he entered his parent's house. The smell of sweet decay and dust danced around him. The memories started pouring, the good ones and the bad ones. But none of them seemed to matter.
He entered his mother's room, her working table was still there, covered with a white piece of cloth, like a ghost of the past waiting to eat your heart alive. Adrian uncovered it and trembled, not from a stupid fear of a ghost, but from the memory of her mother. Her writing pen and papers were still on the desk, frozen in time. He lit up the fireplace, and then sat at his mother's chair while the flickering flames started playing the game of shadows all over the room.
He sat there staring at the paper for minutes, hours, those who have experienced loss could say months even. And then he took the pen, and started writing.
Dear Susan.
I miss you dearly.
If the universe wishes so, some day, we will find each other again. Maybe in another life even.
Until then, may you have calm seas and all the happiness in the world, my love.
I still love you,
Adrian.
He looked at the letter for a while, re-read it a couple of times, swallowed once again the lump in his throat and then threw the letter into the fireplace.
Since then, he spent many nights repeating the contents of that letter before he would go to sleep, like a personal prayer, sent out to god, to the gods, to any god that may listen. That letter, that prayer was now all he had left from her.
Deep down inside, he always somehow knew that his love would end this way. All of his life he pushed through alone and everyone that ever got close to him would soon meet their end. It seems he was meant to ride through this life by himself.
At the same time, he somehow knew that he will meet Susan again. How and when, he couldn't tell. But he somehow knew that was the truth.
The flickering flames danced away, as if they were fed by Adrian's feelings. Adrian on the other hand just stared at the flames, while his love put on a paper burned away into smoke and ashes, as gray as the sky above him.
How could he go on? He knew he couldn't fully recover from this. Ever. The only thing left was to pick up the pieces of his broken heart and try to move on.
For the first time after the accident, he entered his parent's house. The smell of sweet decay and dust danced around him. The memories started pouring, the good ones and the bad ones. But none of them seemed to matter.
He entered his mother's room, her working table was still there, covered with a white piece of cloth, like a ghost of the past waiting to eat your heart alive. Adrian uncovered it and trembled, not from a stupid fear of a ghost, but from the memory of her mother. Her writing pen and papers were still on the desk, frozen in time. He lit up the fireplace, and then sat at his mother's chair while the flickering flames started playing the game of shadows all over the room.
He sat there staring at the paper for minutes, hours, those who have experienced loss could say months even. And then he took the pen, and started writing.
Dear Susan.
I miss you dearly.
If the universe wishes so, some day, we will find each other again. Maybe in another life even.
Until then, may you have calm seas and all the happiness in the world, my love.
I still love you,
Adrian.
He looked at the letter for a while, re-read it a couple of times, swallowed once again the lump in his throat and then threw the letter into the fireplace.
Since then, he spent many nights repeating the contents of that letter before he would go to sleep, like a personal prayer, sent out to god, to the gods, to any god that may listen. That letter, that prayer was now all he had left from her.
Deep down inside, he always somehow knew that his love would end this way. All of his life he pushed through alone and everyone that ever got close to him would soon meet their end. It seems he was meant to ride through this life by himself.
At the same time, he somehow knew that he will meet Susan again. How and when, he couldn't tell. But he somehow knew that was the truth.
The flickering flames danced away, as if they were fed by Adrian's feelings. Adrian on the other hand just stared at the flames, while his love put on a paper burned away into smoke and ashes, as gray as the sky above him.
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