Prose

This is a prose writing that I did that my husband said I should post on here. I haven't blogged in ages--obviously--but I am willing to share this.

Mourning

The house was silent, all of her visitors had left. The only light in the room came from the half-moon shining through the window. It felt good to be alone after being surrounded by people all day long. The kind words and condolences were meant well, and were sincere but she wanted none of it. She wanted to hear the voice of her father again, to hear his perfect-pitch whistle again. She didn’t want people to tell her that it would be okay, that life would move on and the pain would ease with time. The world felt like it moved in fast forward around her, like she couldn’t quite get her body to move in sync with reality. Her eyes drooped with fatigue as she stared at the light in the sky but they never quite shut as she watched the moon set and the sun rise.

The next few months were filled with fake smiles, shopping to fill time, and declining invitations to parties as often as she could get away with it. It seemed that everyone wanted to pull her out of mourning, what no one realized was that she had made it a way of life. It had become comfortable to feel pain, the emotions that shut out the pain angered her. Happiness filled her with guilt, it had only been four months since her father’s passing, she shouldn’t be laughing and smiling yet. It was supposed to hurt forever when you lost someone.

During this self-imposed solitude she shut out the world, grateful for the silence that allowed the pain to swarm her. At times she would sit in an empty room and remember and cry. With no one around it was easier to let the tears fall, easier to give in to the grief that lived like a rock in her chest. But all those that have mourned come to realize that it is not an eternal state of being. At some point something happens to break the cycle, or you become too lost to even function. And where, you might ask, did the situation arise to snap her out of her grief? One did not. She did not snap, it happened little by little with the help of others, and the attention and love of those close to her. It is not good to not live your life because someone you love was unable to live theirs.