The first day.
The first day without her was awful.
Hell, the first second was blinding with pain. Hazel was really gone. That reality crashing down on me was what eluded me from sleep last night. I spent all night and all day locked in the fetal position, crushing my eyes together until I saw white spots dancing behind my lids. I was trying to imagine this whole situation as some fucked up, twisted nightmare that I was going to wake up from. All I managed was a few moments of bliss before my façade was broken by my phone making the small sound it has been making ever since I got home.
Ping Ping.
It was Isaac again. He'd been trying to get me to talk ever since yesterday. He kept on trying to get me to talk to him, even though I had been making it explicitly obvious that I was ignoring him. God, he can be annoying.
Ping ping.
Gus. Come on, you need to talk about this.
Ping ping.
Dude, c'mon.
Ping ping.
I'm here for you.
Ping ping.
I'm getting worried about you, man.
Ping ping.
I'm coming over there.
Ping ping. Ping ping. Ping ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.
I threw my phone against the wall.
Crash.
Didn't he realize that every time he messaged me, all I could think about was Hazel? Her beautiful face on her deathbed, the features on her face strangely euphoric. That brings us to now. Here I sit. The love of my life dead, my best friend with the mentality that I'm possibly suicidal, and my parents too terrified to talk to me. It's like they think I might explode if they talk to me. Like I'm fragile or some shit. God, cancer sure is a bitch. Why Hazel? Why not me? I'm not suicidal, don't get me wrong. I just don't understand why cancer got her. Of all people, it was her. I almost wish it had been me. Even if I did kill myself, I think Hazel wouldn't ever forgive me. Even though she was the one who said oblivion is inevitable, she would call me a cheater for skipping out early.
Isaac showed up a while ago. He won't shut up. Seriously, what's the fucker even talking about? He may be blind, but he doesn't need eyes to see that I'm crying. Wait. When did I even start to cry? Goddammit. Jesus, he's still talking. What's he going on about now? Something about when him and Monica broke up. Holy shit. the fucker is comparing his breakup to my fucking girlfriend dying of cancer. I would knock his ass out if I could make myself move.
Even though it's only been a day, it seems like forever ago that I was holding her in my arms, telling her I loved her, stealing one last kiss before heading home. Getting the soul-crushing midnight phone call. I wish I hadn't gone home. Maybe if I had been there, I could've gotten help to her quicker. Ah, who am I kidding? Her lungs collapsed. There was no saving her. It wasn't like before, when her lungs would fill up with liquid. She was sleeping, and couldn't breathe. Her lungs pretty much imploded, and died almost instantly. The doctors told me that she didn't feel any pain. At least she went away peacefully. That's the only thing that kept me from completely losing it. It was the only consolation I've received that's helped at all. All the hugs and flowers, apologies and phone calls just made me feel worse.
Thank god. Isaac finally shut up. He's feeling his way around my room now. Smelling the flowers, touching the cards. Getting a visual of my room through blind eyes. Sometimes, I wish I was blind. It would have been easier to lose Hazel. That way, I wouldn't see her face appearing every time I closed my eyes. It probably wouldn't work anyway. I'd still hear her angelic laugh, feel her soft skin and supple lips.
I'm crying again.
