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THE LOVE THAT I LOST
I open the door to her room, the room that remained locked for the last three years. The room smells of melancholy and grief, a reflection of what I felt everyday for the last three years. The bookshelf is covered in a pile of dust. Her collection of books, which she was so fond of, now remain in abandonment. The ceiling is enveloped in cobwebs. Her bed lay unmade, just as she left it that day.
The bright blue walls of the room now represent dullness and sorrow. The pictures on the wall appear faded, a sign of decay over time. Our picture together remains hung at the centre, atop the bed. The faces in the picture smile at me, but I do not feel happy enough to smile back.
I walk into the room, contemplating if this is a mistake. Her study table is filled with multi-coloured pieces of sticky notes, to remind herself of all the things that needed to be packed. I smile a little as I remember how forgetful she used to be.
I come across the suitcase that remain open. An empty suitcase, to be filled with memories of the journey. The journey that was never taken. The locket that I had given her as a gift is placed carefully on the table. Beside it, lay the keys to her wardrobe. Hesitantly, I open it. The wardrobe is filled with the clothes that still has their tags on. Clothes that she had bought for our honeymoon.
All of a sudden, the memories of that night flashed before my eyes. The feeling of excitement and nervousness about the wedding. The trauma that followed later. The frantic phone call from her, informing that her parents met with an accident. She asked me to meet her at the hospital. She was already on her way. I rushed to the hospital,my excitement turning into fear at once. I waited at the reception, waiting for her arrival. I waited for what seemed like hours. Finally she came in, carried in by the ambulance crew. She was in no hurry to meet her parents. She didnt move, or breathe. Her face lost its colour, her eyes remained closed.
Later it was known that she drove past the speed limit. That she accelerated her car before the signal had turned green at the intersection. In a moment of frenzy and panic, she hit a dumper approaching from the opposite direction. I was informed later that her parents did not survive as well.
My wedding was spent in mourning. My telephone beeped with messages, from people who were not informed that the wedding did not take place. Messages of congratulations for our wedding. Messages that added salt to my wounds.
Today as I look through her belongings, I realize I have forgotten how she smelled. I cannot seem to remember the sound of her voice either. Time managed to heal most wounds. But her ashen face still haunts my dreams, everyday since that night, reminding me that I have lost the love of my life. Reminding me that I couldn't save her.
--rpg
#writco #love #heartbreak
The bright blue walls of the room now represent dullness and sorrow. The pictures on the wall appear faded, a sign of decay over time. Our picture together remains hung at the centre, atop the bed. The faces in the picture smile at me, but I do not feel happy enough to smile back.
I walk into the room, contemplating if this is a mistake. Her study table is filled with multi-coloured pieces of sticky notes, to remind herself of all the things that needed to be packed. I smile a little as I remember how forgetful she used to be.
I come across the suitcase that remain open. An empty suitcase, to be filled with memories of the journey. The journey that was never taken. The locket that I had given her as a gift is placed carefully on the table. Beside it, lay the keys to her wardrobe. Hesitantly, I open it. The wardrobe is filled with the clothes that still has their tags on. Clothes that she had bought for our honeymoon.
All of a sudden, the memories of that night flashed before my eyes. The feeling of excitement and nervousness about the wedding. The trauma that followed later. The frantic phone call from her, informing that her parents met with an accident. She asked me to meet her at the hospital. She was already on her way. I rushed to the hospital,my excitement turning into fear at once. I waited at the reception, waiting for her arrival. I waited for what seemed like hours. Finally she came in, carried in by the ambulance crew. She was in no hurry to meet her parents. She didnt move, or breathe. Her face lost its colour, her eyes remained closed.
Later it was known that she drove past the speed limit. That she accelerated her car before the signal had turned green at the intersection. In a moment of frenzy and panic, she hit a dumper approaching from the opposite direction. I was informed later that her parents did not survive as well.
My wedding was spent in mourning. My telephone beeped with messages, from people who were not informed that the wedding did not take place. Messages of congratulations for our wedding. Messages that added salt to my wounds.
Today as I look through her belongings, I realize I have forgotten how she smelled. I cannot seem to remember the sound of her voice either. Time managed to heal most wounds. But her ashen face still haunts my dreams, everyday since that night, reminding me that I have lost the love of my life. Reminding me that I couldn't save her.
--rpg
#writco #love #heartbreak
