The desk where you sit inside of a frame made of wood
She looks at it every day. She stares at it until her eyes sting, until she's so out of focus she can see her own reflection in the small pane of glass. She couldn't at first. They all had been swiftly swept up and put into a small chest by her mother while she spent her last night with him at the hospital. A lot about her home had changed after it happened. It took her a long time to notice. She came downstairs less and less and when Mary and David had wondered if reality had finally hit her even harder than before, she stopped coming downstairs at all.
She slept in her bed and cried in her bed. She hardly ate in her bed and hardly drank in her bed. She hardly did anything. For a long while, she couldn't. Some days in the beginning she would wake up with a smile, fresh from sweet dreams filled with memories of their past times together. Those days she hated the most. Those days she hated the most because those were the days she had to turn over to find her mother in bed next to her instead of him, and she had to remember why that was so. Those were the days her mother was startled awake by sobs and a blonde-haired, green-eyed, pale-skinned body wrapping her ghostly arms around and squeezing her too tight under the covers. Those were the days her mother's throat was torn up from holding in her own sobs. Those were not the best of days. Slowly though, those days faded into days and days of one simple conversation.
"Mom?"
"Yes, Emma?"
"I miss him."
"I miss him too, honey."
I want you back
"IT'S FUCKING UNFAIR! IT'S FUCKING TERRIBLE AND IT'S FUCKING INSANE!"
Now it was time to be mad.
"WHY MY KILLIAN? HUH? WHY NOT SOMEONE ELSE'S JOHN OR FRANK OR ANDREW?"
"You don't mean that, sweetheart."
"YES I DO. WHY MINE? WHY MINE!"
"I don't know, honey."
"WHY STAB MY HUSBAND? WHY DOES MY HUSBAND HAVE TO BE A DEAD HUSBAND? HUH? FUCKING ANSWER ME MOM!"
"There isn't an answer, Emma."
She slapped her hands onto the kitchen counter. She knew she wouldn't receive a valid reply; but she needed to ask.
"Why not?"
Now it was time to feel lost.
It sounds like we would have had a great deal to say to each other
Their marriage was so new. That's what she couldn't understand. They were so new. She never asked for much in life. She never had much in life. But they were something. They were her and him together in such a relatable love that she couldn't believe her luck. They knew each other from the start, even before they had exchanged first names. It's a very special feeling you get when that invisible string that's tied to you tangles with the invisible string that's tied to someone else. She never believed such a feeling to even exist until the first time she held his hand and felt his cold rings in-between her fingers. She could feel those strings snap when she first arrived to the hospital, her soulmate in a bed, not breathing on his own.
Days later when she gained her voice, she spoke to him. She didn't stop. She told him so many things about herself. She told him nicknames she had come up with for him that she never got to tell him. She told him secrets that she never got to tell him. She told him that she was hungry and that she would be right back. When she was back, she would tell him how much she loved him more times than she ever got to tell him. By day six her voice was gone again. It left with her hope. It left with his chance to wake up. Her soulmate was still in a bed, not breathing on his own.
When I leave my body for the sky the wait will be worth it
She never wanted to think about the day they decided to let him go. Of course that wasn't possible. She thought about it every day. Mostly at night, staring at the ceiling, breathing shallow so her mom would believe she was asleep. She would stare at the plain ugly white, but that's not what she would see. What she would see was him. The living him. Her mind would race through every facial expression he ever made, his smell, his wispy hair. She wanted to remember it all and to never ever ever ever ever forget. She played those memories on the ceiling until the only images left of him were of after it happened, so that's when she stopped. She stopped all at once and let herself forget a little bit. She needed to. She knew she never actually would forget, but she needed to push him away. Her mind and body and soul were too loud in her ears telling her to go and join him. She knew she couldn't. If she left now, there would be no one to keep him alive down here the way she could. But she knew one day she would join him. She wasn't sure how and she wasn't sure where, but she knew it would happen because she felt it. She felt their string slowly intertwining themselves over time, and now? Now those two strings were in an unbreakable knot. She knows the wait will be worth it. So let the waiting begin.