Eternal Love: Beynika Oneshots

Senses

The more I think about it
The less that I was able to share with you
I try to reach for you, I can almost feel you
You're nearly here
And then you disappear
________

Death.

It wasn't supposed to be easy, but it wasn't supposed to be this difficult either. For the last four weeks, I'd been trying to find the words to express exactly how I felt about it, but nothing would surface. Instead, my fingers continued to wrap themselves around my harmonica as wind rushed from my lungs and through it the flute to create a methodical rhythm that placed me at ease.

I wasn't sure what I was playing or if it was even worth remembering-as far as the notes-but I knew one thing for certain, it made me feel better. That's what overruled the other uncertainties and was all I needed to continue. Note after note, I swayed my head to be sure that I didn't miss the bursts of extra oxygen that came in spurts which increased the volume here and there.

Therapeutic. Even more so than therapy itself, which was why I had ghosted my therapist with little to no shame or regret. I didn't need her intrusiveness at the moment. For now, I needed something to ease my pain, not shove it in my face by forcing me to speak on it as a method to overcoming something that I just couldn't.

In my opinion, there were some things that you'd never come to terms with, so gaining closure was simply too farfetched. This was one of those things. Instead of attempting to get over my pain, I wanted to go through it. Because, no matter how many frustrating sessions I attended with her, it would still be there.

Months from now.
Years from now.
Decades from now.

Just lingering in the background, but present nonetheless. So, I chose to play. And play. And play. It was my sole source of relief at the moment with promises of lending a listening ear for my unadulterated thoughts and serving as a temporary bonding agent to mend the pieces of my shattered heart. For that, I was grateful.

My best friend.
My very best friend.

Gone. Unexpectedly to make matters worse, and it was ripping me to shreds as the days continued to pass me by. There wasn't a single person I could call and vent or get sound advice from any longer. No one to send or even receive random, uplifting messages. Everything and anything that we'd ever participated in as a duo would now go undone and that shit hurt me to the core.

The harmony that chimed wasn't of the instrument that I held at my mouth. It was from the phone that sat next to me on the bed. Simultaneously, it vibrated against my leg. I removed the harmonica from my lips and replaced it with my phone. At the realization that I was receiving a call from the recent app that I'd downloaded, my speed and desperation increased. Without further thought, I accepted the video request and straightened my posture as if the caller could see me.

The truth was, they couldn't. The Eyes for You application was one I discovered on social media less than two months prior. It was dedicated to the visually impaired who needed help with daily activities. Because there were over two hundred thousand volunteers who has downloaded the app and only half of the amount of people who actually needed assistance, it wasn't often that I received a call. The first time I did, another volunteer got to it before I was able. Requests are sent to several of us at once and the first to answer is the person to assist.

As the call connected, I swiped the wetness from my cheeks with the back of my sweater. It was all that I wore. A sweater and a pair of comfortable cotton underwear that were a few thread of fabric from being considered a thong. A light sniffle followed as a noodle pack appeared on the camera.