Memories of Summer

[Week 4: Maggie]

(Words written around twenty years ago)

Dear Michael,

I don't think that anyone ever imagines that anyone of their loved ones would die. Not totally and completely. It's unbearable to actually come to the conclusion that someone that you have been sharing laughs, tears and other memories with is suddenly going to be gone. It really doesn't matter how much time you think you and this person has had, not even all the time in the world will be enough sometimes.

But if you can't even imagine losing one of your siblings or friends. Then don't even try to imagine how it feels to be totally alone at their funeral. I have never so much as when Nancy's white coffin was before me, wanted to just rip my aching heart out of my chest. It made my whole body lose understanding of time and place and it hurted everywhere. 

Literally everywhere.

It didn't matter that mum didn't quite understand what was happening or that Michael wasn't there. That was normal, but that I couldn't feel when John's protective arms was around me scared me beyond thinkable. Am I lost and without hope now?

My eyes felt like they burnt, but the thought of clawing them out didn't give me satisfaction.

My hands felt like they were dripping with blood, but the thought of cutting them off didn't give me gratisfaction.

My lungs felt like they were suffocated under the pressure of my heart, and the thought of stop breathing actually gave me comfort.

They say that dreams can give you strength even in the darkest hour. So the question that is now on my mind is "How much do you have to suffer before you realize that the impossible isn't becoming possible? Even if you wanted to give your life for it to be".

Fuck, it hurts.

"If the world falls down, you need to help me hold it up Mags."

She always said that. With tears in her golden eyes or a smile on her red lips.

I remember thinking:

"How could anyone do this to someone they have looked in the eyes and said that they loved? Isn't love supposed to be forever? If not, what do we even live for?"

But the thing is that I know that Nancy didn't do this to me, she would never. But how could this world be so against me to take away the one and only thing I felt like living for.

Not even art can help me disappear from reality now.

Some part of me keeps repeating: You have to go one, that is what Nancy would have wanted. Well, I didn't want to lose my sister, so I guess we don't always get what we want. Do we?

Coming out from the church after kissing my sister's now cold cheeks and seeing her face which looked awfully peaceful was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Outside was a man walking by, he carried a guitar bag over his shoulders and his hair was gray. His eyes looked tired as if he had been running a marathon for his entire life. I couldn't help but just stop and stare at him.

This man was even whistling while my tears were flowing from my eyes. How could he be happy? How dare he smile and whistle while I wanted to tear my heart out? I felt like I wanted to just scream at this man, I have never felt such anger inside of me as when this man just stopped talking to stare at me. But then he said:

"What has happened?"

I looked at him as if everyone should now. Everyone should be able to remember her name as the superstar she was.

"She is dead."

The man kept looking at me and I felt how the rest of the church was starting to empty.

"Who?"

I felt the cold and always so distant hand of my mother on my shoulders as she stood beside me. But I just shrugged her off.

"Nancy. Nancy Reed."

If I was to be honest for a second I did not think that he would understand what I was talking about. But he let the guitar bag fall to the ground and his eyes started to water. He walked closer and it felt like Nancy's eyes were looking back into mine.

This is not happening I thought.

But as both the man and I took off running, I can't help but feel as if it was true.

Before mum could even realize who he was, before Nancy's body was even under the ground and even before John had started to call my name, my heart had lost all hope.

I didn't even get to tell my sister she was becoming an aunt.

Bye, Michael

-

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Your dearest,

6th of April