This War Of Mine 2

Aftermath

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë.
The hardcover. This book, left to the last, because, this book has treasured so many memories and is doing the exceptional job of triggering what was heavenly now a painful past.
My fingers brushed the top cover, as I opened it.
Waves and tides of emotions hit me, the day he got me the book, the calligraphy saying "For you" in the first blank page, the lines, our favorite lines marked, and, all those times we'd sat together in the evening, watching the sunset, reading this beautiful novel and now, now he'd died regretfully, never showing what he was, never shining enough, for the others. I closed the book back and took it to the box, when again I noticed yet another folded piece of paper lying on the ground, fallen from the novel.
Tears already blotted the paper, as my brain stopped at every word, scared to proceed further, vain in comprehending.
My love,
Hello. I am you. You are me. We both know that don't we? Yes. Now this note, again,(disclaimer- Just a note, I am not dying haha) is only, and only for the major, colossal part of my life. You. I don't know where to begin, honestly. All those times girlfriend, that you've given me, the raspy morning moods, the busy day moods, evening reading bliss, sleeping with my head on your lap, your fingers tangled with my hair, and then those amazing night moods you have. I do love all these moods but I shouldn't forget to mention a few other. Fights, oh god, how many. I know I have a big mouth and a long tongue that helps in many purposes (Kidding, sorry.) I can imagine him stopping at "Sorry." and scratching his head for words. But I also knew,that there is so much more in what he calls a 'note'
I am terribly sorry for all those stupid ass fights and hey, it's not like I don't make up. And all those major tornadoes that tore us apart, and all those B&B's we chose to ignore (Bitches & Bastards), and all the pain I inflicted upon you, I will never do it again. Never. You, Samantha, are the best woman on earth, you are mature and intelligent enough to understand life, though sometimes you be the bitch I love. You are incredibly beautiful, talented and undoubtedly the hottest chick ever. Kepp doing what you're doing because that is what is you. You pulled me into your own folds of love and life and changed me, shaped my personality and made me the human I am. Made me change from a guy to a gentleman( I know baby). You taught me what love is, how to love, how to respect and how to find beauty in peace. You are silence, but you are the most meaningful way of silence. You are my light at the end of the tunnel, but only that you will be travelling the endless tunnel of ours with my hand in yours. I will protect you, love you, not for how you look, but the heart and attitude you beautifully combine with your chocolate skin and exuberant eyes, that genuine yet fierce language you have, and the most amazing writing skills that you possess that reawakens the temporarily dead emotions in me. Temporarily dead? I'm down with your everything. You are my life and I respect you and the love you have for me, with all my existence. I will adore every inch of you. I want all those little moments we have to last forever, those small, petty fights, those damn good mornings, laced up evenings and wild nights, I will never get tired of them. Since I enjoy them and want more, sign that little blank below, my beau. Yes yes, I know. Sign now. Or else....My eyes darted to the bottom of the what seemed like 4 pages and it said-
Mr. Sapan Sharma _________ with his signature scribbled across.
Mrs. Sapan Sharma__________ with a blank for me to sign.
The paper left my numb hands and hit the floor, as my body fell limp to the floor, my nails clawing my face as I let out a frustrated scream and immediately broke down into tears.
WHY DO I NEED THIS? WHY???
~
The last of optimism, or a pose of optimism I had within me, shattered into shards.Like glass. Non-stop streams of tears flooded my cheek as I was left vulnerable, and weak. I couldn't move an inch.
Immobile.
I just lay there, still, thinking about him.
~
I looked up at the clock, the time was 11.
I hadn't eaten a morsel of food, not drank a pint of water. I didn't want to. Just then, the doorbell rang.
"Hey."
"Have you eaten?"
"Yes."
"Don't lie. Advika come fast!"
"I'm not. Want to come in?"
Shreya barged in with Advika behind her.
I walked back into the library, and took that note in my hand, "Suit yourself."
Shreya came behind and sat next to me. She tried snatching the paper away from me, as I fought out of her grip, tears pricking the back of my eye.
Her hand circled my shoulder and she pulled me closer. It's one thing about Shreya's hugs. She gives you the best of them, and her warmth almost pushes out all your sunken emotions like now, my tears coming out again, this time together with high-pitched wailing.
I didn't care, I didn't care about what the neighbours or anybody would think. I lost him, lost him completely.
All my fault again.
~
My eyelids were heavy, my brains slowly shutting down for this day.
In the distance I could hear whispers of Advika, "The funeral...,, 20th Sunday. She,,..eulogy?"
That's all the words I could grasp before I forgot the world for a mere count of 5 hours.
~
The eulogy?

Hello there!!

I know the feels. I had to do it you guys..
But, it's life isn't it?
Keep the love and support coming.
One love \m/