Greetings from somebody else’s paradise,
Last night, I awoke calling your name. I reached to grab your hand but was met with nothing but a shadow of you. It hasn’t sunk in yet. I still feel your presence. As if your soul still lingers here for me, not yet ready to part.
The medication can’t block the memories, can't erase my pain. The alcohol only numbs the mind for so long, and after a while, the high does nothing more than drag out the inevitable. It only makes me sit and stew. I’m stuck with my thoughts of you.
The only thing I want to do is sit and cry, but it seems that I’ve run out of tears. I sit here in the dark, pen in hand and the crisp breeze blowing through these drafty windows of our old apartment, causing me to shiver. It’s May…shouldn’t the flowers be here? Even Mother Earth is mourning you.
Wish you were here,
Love, your one and only
***
Greetings from the bottom of the bottle,
I visited your grave site today. Three months and still no headstone, no plaque, like the grave of the forgotten, the unknown. Nothing more than a mound of dirt and leaves. Your stepfather said the check for it was on the way, but I never believe a word he says. The only reason he came to the funeral was for appearances. I wish I had the money, but I barely made our rent this month. It was so much easier when it was you and me.
I cleaned up your plot of the leftover leaves and grass clippings. I made a cross out of branches bound with the laces of your favorite pair of red chucks. I bought them for your birthday four years ago and you wore out the soles. I couldn’t bear to part with them.
Could you feel my body when I lay on the ground over your grave? I imagined your warm embrace. Your arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me in, pressing your lips on mine. Kissing me, my forehead, my lips, my neck…
I didn't want to leave the cemetery, leave you again, but the air grew cold, and the sky turned dim. I love you my sweet...one day we'll meet again, and I'll join you in the dark ground below.
Dinner tonight is our last bottle of Jack. Our fridge is empty…and so am I.
Missing you,
Love, Your heart and soul.
***
Greetings from tent city,
The landlord posted the eviction sign on the door this morning. No phone call or text warning, just a yellow notice scotch taped to our door. The electricity was cut off some time last night. I packed my backpack and your old blue duffel bag with some clothes and toiletries early this morning. I left the landlord a note to sell whatever was left for rent and slid the key under his door. It's just useless shit to me now, without you, material things have no meaning.
I found our old tent from our camping days in the storage closet and took that as well. It still smells of the smoke from the campfire you took three hours to build. Remember that night? The wood was still wet from the rainstorm the night before, but you wanted to cook on an open fire, “Like a real man,” you said. I was asleep before the fire started, but you woke me up with a few perfectly toasted s’mores for dinner.
I walked for hours, several towns over. I needed a clean start. There was nothing left for me at home anymore. There wasn’t even a home. You were my only family. I’d heard of tent cities before, but I didn’t think I’d ever be in one. An older gentleman with a long graying beard and a kind face helped me set up my tent. He welcomed me and didn’t ask questions, for which I was thankful.
The sun is beginning to set now. I don’t know if I’m ready to face another night without you. I have a few sleeping pills left. I can wash that down with the cheap vodka I bought down the road. Maybe it will help me slip into a deep sleep, dreaming of being with you once more. That is all I need tonight.
Losing faith,
Love, your soulmate.
***
Greetings from the brink of madness,
No job, no home, no money. I’ve become reliant on the soup kitchen down the road for a meal, and the showers down at the beach. I lost all sense of time, but it must be nearing September, because I passed the back-to-school sale signs plastered across every store along the road.
I’m not sure how I’ve made it this long without you. Each day my heart aches for you, a sharp pain in my chest as I struggle to breathe. Somehow, even in death, you manage to take my breath away.
I'm not sure if it’s the alcohol, the hunger, or just my heart playing tricks on the brain but I’ve been hallucinating, thinking that you’re next to me. Or I’ll see you walking down the street, smiling, with your bright blue eyes gazing into mine like they once did. Then I run to you, to finally hold you in my arms once again, but you’re gone, and it's like losing you over again.
I keep telling myself, "he’d want you to live", but my heart says otherwise. I don’t know how much strength I have left in me. Each moment without you is an eternity. Each breath alone feels like suffocation. I never knew how much I needed you until you were gone.
You were the air I breathe.
Until my last my breath,
Love, your darling girl
***
Greetings from the edge of the cliff,
This morning I hitched a ride to the old camping ground. It’s October now, so the grounds were empty. I wandered around for hours, getting lost in the trees like we did last summer.
I remember how you brought your grandpa’s old compass, and we ventured off into the woods. You told me you "learned everything in Eagle scouts, it shouldn’t be that hard". I blindly followed you into the tall trees and rocky terrain, despite knowing you had no idea how to read it. But I’d follow you anywhere, and I did. I let you explore these woods and get lost with you with no complaint, because my heart knew you didn’t have much time left.
Cancer sucks, I thought I’d have more time with you, but it was only a few months after the diagnosis. The doctors told us we had options, that we had time. The world wasn't ready to lose you. I wasn't ready to lose you. You were too young. We wanted to travel, to get lost across the world, not just in the woods an hour from home. We wanted to build a family, something I had never had until you. Now, I've lost it all. It's just me.
I'm all alone.
When I said I do, they said, “Until death do you part,” I never planned on it being by 27. I never planned to live without you, and I don’t plan on spending another moment without you.
The cliff near the woods overlooks the water, sharp rocks, and a riptide current below. It’d be so easy to fall…
To fall back into your arms
Just. One. Step…
See you soon,
Love, your angel.
© Danielle Amerena, 2023
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