Dear Death

Dear Death ,

Last time I wrote to you, the pages were soaked in tears. It was abrupt, scribbled with ramblings, and resounding with sounds of incessant begging.  We talked about the colours you see and the darkness that I can’t stop seeing. Now I am overwhelmed. I know you are not the monster and perhaps you cried with us too, because it’s not every day you get to take away a soul so pure. Mayhap you listened to me when I pleaded with you to wait a few more days before you took her away. 

Could you see the technicolour she projected, did our pain darken her aura, or did it blanket her in our love? Tell me if she is finally in a better place, did she make you smile? It won’t be the first time she made a stranger smile. Did she listen to you instead of thinking about herself, did she break down because she couldn’t bear our tears? Could you tell her we will be fine?She worries you know. 

I am sorry that I’ve stained these pages again, sorry for barraging you with questions. I don’t mean to hurt you, but you took away the  colour from my life, left me black and white and a little more empty. Darling, you took all the beauty and left behind the ugliness. I am trying to pull everyone through. I am pretending to be fine so that my mother’s heart pains a little less. Maybe I should share my pain, and let others comfort me in my anguish, but all I can do is hide under my blanket and stare away. 

As reality fades away, and I try to deal with this devastation and suffocate with all these memories that keep flashing by. Do you feel loss, does your gut wrench because you love someone so deeply, that you cannot breathe when you think about letting them go. Have you ever been forgotten, dear death how do I deal with all this passionate torture I feel. 

I cannot make sense of simple things any more even breathing takes effort. This overthinking, this writing to you is the only thing distracting me from the constant hole in my heart.

Have you ever been so hurt that you can no longer look at the colours of this world? Do these conversations we humans force on you make you sad, or do our world-shattering feelings make you laugh at the irony of everything? Today I felt fear, a dark panic, I was again terrified of you. I had stopped fearing you long ago, tried inviting you to my doorsteps too. I jumped mountains and ran through ridges because I didn’t dread you, I welcomed you. I forgot you could make my living harder every passing moment. You could take away the last crutches I was living on, you could take away the love I have and not even wonder twice. As I learn to live again, I regret writing you another tear-stained, abrupt, scribbled rambling.

Love,  

Manya.