Dear Diary,
"Good morning, love," he whispers into her exposed neck, his lips landing on the vulnerable, sensitive skin. Short, sweet kisses are laid upon her until she awakes in the warmth of his arms, in the midst of his presence. She turns to face the light of her day, the spirit of her life. In a spellbound trance, her lips curve into a shy smile by the greeting of his mesmerizing eyes, framed by lusciously thick lashes she could only ever wish for.
"Morning, Zayn."
No more words travel through the small distance between them as she rises to meet the golden rays of the sun, leaving him to bask in the warmth while she gets ready for a busy day at the office.
The subtle touch of blush and her eyes enhanced by kohl liner is admired by her Romeo, a soft touch against her cheek as he caresses her face.
“Don’t be late tonight, Perrie.” He mumbles, reminding her of their dinner date tonight in honour of their three year anniversary.
She gives a reassuring smile followed by a few sweet words before she turns towards the door, beginning another page, and possibly a chapter of her life.
When he is sure that she has left the proximity, he sits down in her favourite wooden chair. His mind races with thoughts and ideas as he fidgets, feeling the nerves dominate his body.
As he runs a hand through his black hair, he ponders. Tonight isn’t just another two meals to be consumed, or for little stories to be shared. It is the night that determines if he will ever lay his eyes on her elegant body, sculpted by the perfect white silk gown, and the beauty of her face hidden behind a veil. It is to confirm that their whisper of three little words every day can turn into forever.
His mother always scolded him for asking questions that began with “what if.” He can’t seem to slow down his mind that is racing with these questions though. What if she said no? What if she was indecisive while he knelt on the carpeted floor, anxiously waiting for her answer?
He struggles with his unsettling thoughts, trying to push them away. He needs to be optimistic. Maybe he ought to dress up like a hippie and see if that makes him feel happier and at peace. After all, Perrie's motto is "don't worry, be hippie." He smiles at his thoughts, thinking of all the things he admires about her. The way cute little snorts take over her laughs, her bubbly personality, and how she always sees the good in people. She is flawless.
An hour passes before his phone lights up with an incoming call. He picks up.
His heart stops for an eternity when the words process through his mind.
"Ms. Edwards is in the hospital. She's been in a possibly fatal car accident."
His phone drops, and suddenly the intake of oxygen does not seem essential. Nothing is important to him except his blonde beauty that is on the verge of death.
When he shakes himself out of his unstable state, his hands clutch the keys to his automobile, and rushes to the hospital. He is forced to wait outside, white walls acting as barriers between him and his poor Perrie.
His heart is beating fast, almost as if it wants to jump right out if his body. It feels like forever, this action of waiting. Sitting, fidgeting, pacing, he doesn't know what to do.
He keeps thinking. She will pull through, she has to. She is a strong woman, never one to be defeated. She is successful, young, and she is meant to live a long, fulfilling life. She is to stay by his side forever. He longs to hear her whisper his name ever so sweetly, to make her laugh by his horrid jokes, to te-
All sounds stop from inside the room.
Minutes past before the door opens.
There is a look in the doctor's eyes. It is a look of sympathy, or even empathy.
The heart that was just beating ever so fast stops once again when an apology is received, followed by the infamous line – she didn't make it.
There are uproarious screams in his mind when he struggles to choke out the words he is thinking of, because cries emit from his throat that has gone dry, and tears spill from his watering eyes. All he can smell is the sterile stench circulating within his nostrils, and all he can see is the vulnerability of the people around him. It all turns into gloom and despair when his eyes shut, when his body can no longer support the heavily fallen soul. His own darling has faded into nothingness.
Others, however, see a young man sinking down on his knees, slumping against the walls as nurses scramble out of his way to aid those in need. They can see how his face glistens with freshly spilled tears and the despair in his eyes. But they can’t feel the pain his heart is sensing, each throb hurting a hundred times worse than a bullet wound. A deleterious disaster has struck.
Lightning no longer strikes, but the blue sky brightened by the risen sun doesn’t appear either. The sky is colourless. Rain doesn’t fall; it stays up in the dense clouds that seem to be suffocating him. Colours of the rainbow are replaced by the dull tones of grey. He lives in the dark shadow of his lonesome self that was once lit by his faded flame.
He is trapped within four walls, darkness seeming to slither down the walls to corner him into nothingness. He thinks he has ran out of tears to spill, but when he pictures her blue eyes turning into stone-grey orbs buried six feet under, he cries. He weeps at the thought of not being able to see his beauty full of life again, and he bawls when he realizes his thought is the excruciating truth.
He is no longer the young, confident man that people used to admire. His once angelic, handsome face is now flawed with dark circles underneath his dull eyes. His cheeks are sunken in, his ribcage protruding from his vulnerable, pale skin. The previously spirited characteristics are buried deep within him with no plans to escape. His mind is filled with nothing but sadness, an emotion reaching for limits, only to find none. It courses through his veins, an overflow of a single emotion that leaves him as a lone, broken man.
Whispers are shared amongst him and those loyal to him. They ask how he is, as if he can ever put what he feels into words. Nobody can understand him, even if they try their very hardest. They cannot feel the pain when their Juliet is ripped from their arms, soaked in crimson, and her heart too weak to keep its grasp on life. It is an impossible task, to confide his feelings and thoughts to those who are not him. To repeat the words in his mind and to reveal his distressed emotions, is asking him to feel a heated ombré of reds and yellows travel upon his bare body, devouring him until all that is left is ash. This is his world of loneliness and pain, not theirs.
Loyalty and comfort exists, yet when they are pushed away to feel unwanted and unappreciated, they leave to flourish in their own lives, no longer wanting to be brought down by his clouded, drab aura. He is left in utter loneliness, to spiral into the darkness of grief.
He is fading into emptiness, to oblivion. Words are no longer exchanged about his tragic life that came to an abrupt pause, and that the tape has been cut, no longer able to move forward, and stuck in the zone of the past. Outside of his mind, his identity has vanished.
There’s something about the way things end for humans. The freshness of oxygen within the body is replaced with muskiness, and control over everything is lost. Physically, bodies are there in flesh, yet they are painted with lifeless shades of grey. The person that people once knew vanishes into thin air; not a trace of his presence lingers by home.
I suppose things ended for him, but in the moment of seeing his lifeless body dangle before me, I feel dead as well. His head that hangs low makes me sick, because I know I’ll never see the brave man that I once knew pick himself up, and let optimism guide him into the future. The corpse above me is the white flag. He has surrendered, in the land of the dead.
I can only hope that he is now free from the boundaries that confined him into a universe of pain and emptiness.
I hope he sees the angelic soul that left him all too early, and I hope they have a joyous reconnection. May the emptiness that once consumed him be replaced by the delightful feelings of love and companionship.
I hope they thrive in eternity.
A.
