About The Horrific Idea That I Should Never See You Again

What a horrible idea! It seems so unreal. I should never see you again, never again hug you, never hear your lovely voice on the phone again. I should never smell you again and never again understand your train of thought that only you yourself understood, no matter what you thought. I think of how I used to smile just because of your tender voice.

My hands are shaking, my knees are weak, no one can hear the scream of my heart, it pulls the ground away from under my feet, I don’t have the air to breathe and I choke on my words. I cannot scream, nor can I flee. I remain calm and, like everyone else, I am frozen.

I fight against sinking in the mud

I close my eyes and the first thing I see in front of me terrifies me. I’m terrified of remembering even more, I hold onto this wish as tightly as someone who gets on a cable car and knows that it leads right into the abyss. The desire is growing in my mind to wake up from this nightmare that I got into without wanting to.

I still shiver and the stones in my backpack weigh heavily. The shoulder straps cut into my skin and my muscles are heavy as lead. My legs and knees can no longer carry the load and before I know it I’ll find myself on the floor. I look at the ground and wait for the pain to come: Come on, come on, take me with you and destroy me. How dreadful the idea is that I shall never see you again.

My palms can no longer be seen and my fingers are gradually sinking into the sand that has turned to mud from the rain and into which my knuckles sink as soon as they touch it, so that I perish and not the mud emerges as a loser. My knees buckle and touch the floor, my hands close, my fists are clenched and the water is running through my fingers. I open my eyes again, but they only look into the darkness that my mind has created. This darkness where there is the horrible idea that I should never see you again.

Someone is getting closer, I can hear their footsteps. I want to keep him out of this awful place and the only thing that happens is that I tense my body even more. I close my eyes because now it’s the tears that wet the earth. Somewhere in my head I heard a voice commanding: Go away, don’t come any closer! But this voice is very far away because he cannot hear it and he hugs me, hugs me very tightly, as tightly as only a small child who loves can hug.

That I should never see you again is just terrible

The need to protect our child makes me struggle with the idea of ​​never seeing you again. Ultimately, I give in to the hug. The hug gets weaker, I drop to one side and the child falls on top of me. I’m giving up this idea of ​​never seeing you again and now I’m the one who hugs it as tightly as he can and with the strength that the past years that you have been by my side have given me during the The pain becomes so great that the brain accepts it and gradually numbs me.

It’s a kind of morphine that I swallow, and I notice it because it takes the air out of me to breathe and suffocates me.

“Dad, mom is not gone. It’s ridiculous that I shouldn’t see her again! “

What this toddler doesn’t already know! He sees her mother when he thinks of her. I’m happy for him because he still believes in it, because he thinks the idea is ridiculous and I find it terrible. So he trusts in the future without realizing what pain will come over him. For a few seconds I cling to his ignorance and this lie makes the air no longer so oppressive and the water no longer so cold.

When I get up, I know that this ridiculous, horrible notion will forever unite us – a connection far stronger than the genetic connection. I get up, I take the child in my arms and slowly start walking. I take the first steps on a long, uncertain path that still lies ahead of me. Part of me will continue to wait for the pain that is yet to come, another part caresses this little, golden face that is part of this precious inheritance that you have left me.

I put the child on his mother’s side in bed and give him her pillow. It grabs it with its little fingers. I look at it and I sing a song to him in my mind. But I believe the child can hear because they take one of mine with their hands and stroke the wet spots left by the tears before they fall asleep completely.