The Ridiculous Idea of Not Seeing You Again
How ridiculous is that! It sounds so impossible…that the very idea seems to have no meaning. Not seeing you again, not being able to hug you again. Not listening to the ringtone that I have set for your number on my phone. Never again being wrapped up in your smell or in the way you had of putting everything in order, which only you understood. And to think, that melody used to only make me smile.
My hands tremble, my knees shake, my heart whines a little and seems to beat in a hollow manner. The ground becomes slippery, the air becomes stale, my lungs seem to empty. I no longer feel the air that seems to be ripping the seams of my shirt. My words get stuck at the base of my throat. I can’t scream, nor run away. I simply remain still. Just like the rest of the world, frozen.
I’m struggling in the mud
I close my eyes and the first memory appears, which I bat away with the swing of my hand. Anxiously, I’m compelled to create more. I cling to that need like someone headed straight for a cliff, and I know it. In my mind appears the idea of waking up from that slumber, which I fell into without meaning to. I fantasize about taking a step and falling in.
The shivers continue, and more weight accumulates on my shoulders. The straps begin to tighten and so do my muscles. My knees begin to fail on me, and before I even notice it, I’m on the ground. Slowly, I let my head drop and wait for the pain to hit me. Come on, do it already. Take me with you, destroy me. How ridiculous it sounds, the idea of never seeing you again.
The palms of my hands cave in and slowly my nails dig into the sand dampened by the rain. Once it notices it has been caught, it soaks my knuckles in order to not perish by strangulation. My elbows fold in and touch the ground. My fists close and water seeps from within my fingers. Once more, my eyes open and only see the darkness that I have formed within my body. That darkness within which I have locked away that ridiculous idea of never seeing you again.
Ana draws near. I notice her steps. I want her to go away and the only thing I do is just tense my body up even further. Tightly, I squeeze my eyes shut, because now its my tears that are moistening the ground. Somewhere within my head, the order appears: go away, get away from here. It comes from somewhere very far away, because Ana doesn’t hear it. She hugs me, tightly, with the strength that only a five-year-old can hug someone.
It’s ridiculous to think that I’ll never see her again
The need to protect our daughter goes against that idea, the one of never seeing you again. In the end, I surrender into her embrace, but I do so unconsciously. The strength of her hug wanes. I let myself drop to one side, and she falls on top of me. I let go of that idea, the one of never seeing you again. Now it’s me who is hugging her with the strength that all of those years by your side gave me. Meanwhile, the pain becomes so great that my brain fights back and begins to make me numb.
It’s a morphine that goes into the throat. I notice it because it chokes me and doesn’t let me breathe.
What the hell does this little tadpole know? She is the living image of her mother. I’m happy for her, because she still has faith. Luckily, the idea seems even more ridiculous to her than me. There she is, challenging the future without having a clue of the sorrow that is to come. For a few moments I cling to her ignorance and that lie makes the air a little less dense.