"The death of your child is a great loss, and it's constantly clawing at your emotions."
It was the first thing she heard ringing in her ears as she woke up folded double over her desk. She had to have fallen asleep at some point. Her computer was on, an envelope blinking in the corner told her she had received mail while she was out.
She looked around in the otherwise dark and cold office, wiped some drool that had been left free falling from her open mouth. A mouth that now was dried. She cleared her throat and listed to the sound resonate, bouncing back from the walls. She couldn't even remember where she had dozed off.
She didn't know what time it was, but it definitively felt like past midnight. Everything was so calm, not a sound could be heard except the fan on her computer. She had a faint idea that it was her back that had woke her up. It was a long time since she was a student, able to sleep on desks for extended periods. She was older now, should be more responsible with her health. Her body didn't allow her the same things anymore.
Ino had never been afraid of growing old. She had long since decided that she would age with grace. What her body turned into was something she would accept. Still she didn't like what she saw in the mirror anymore. It had nothing to do with her face, it was what was looking back at her.
He had had her eyes, though his eyebrows had been arched like his father's. So she didn't like her face anymore. She didn't like to see him in it. If she smiled some memory of him would surface, them on the swing set, him patting a dog on the street or something she wouldn't think of as memorable.
It wasn't the uncommon, it was the special moments she remembered the best. It was him finding his way to their bed at the middle of night, something she used to hate. It was him dropping treats in her purse, it was him picking out his own outfits with varied luck. You know? The things she was done with the day after. Things that made her feel, the everyday situations being a mother.
She got out of her chair, computer turned off. She should have gone straight to bed. Now that she was still drowsed with her still lumbering sleep. Her feet didn't carry her to her bed; she found her way to the kitchen. Out of habit she reached out her arm and turned on the boiler.
Sometimes the three of them would have evening tea together. It was family time. It was when they summed up their day, maybe told what they wanted to do that weekend. They used to be a close knit family. Weekends were never lazy and they always did their best to do something after work and school.
Now she came home alone to an empty house only to decide to do nothing. There was nothing left in her house.
She poured herself a cup of tea. She hadn't know it would end like this when her son received the diagnose that would kill him. She had never imagined herself living alone at this age. She, like everyone else, didn't imagine her marriage failing. She knew it was a possibility, but she had never thought it would actually happen. Especially not this way.
She knew it was for the best. It was better living alone than with him, how things turned out. Still her chest tightened thinking of him, her breath felt like it was stuck but reality was that it was coming rapidly. She still loved him. She still lived with some sort of hope that they would find each other again. When they had healed. When they were better.
Holding around the warm cup made her feel better as she walked aimlessly through the house. Slumber was no longer in her eyes that had adapted to the dark.
She had laughed earlier that day. She had let it roll out her mouth, no longer able to contain it in any way.
"It's not that the man didn't want to juggle, he just didn't have the balls to do it."
She let out a snort and sat down on the floor. She had soon after his passing given away everything. She didn't want it in her house as a reminder. The possessions were still functional, it would be a shame to hoard it when someone could make use of it. It made her feel better.
Some of the most important things she had kept. They stood underneath the window, three boxes. Otherwise the room was empty. The room trapped the sound of her drinking her tea. She wanted to move on from this. She truly wanted to heal, the scar would always stay but right now her life felt like a big gaping flesh wound spewing blood and pus everywhere she went.
She knew how her network treated her, she knew what they thought and they had allowed her to become like this. She was the divorcee who had lost her child. She was the big failure who had lost everything so of course she was allowed to be sad, of course she was allowed to embrace the depression and let it grow. By time it had become her. She was supposed to be sad, she was supposed to be miserable and everyone would judge her if she felt better.
Had they known she had been laughing with another man?
She flipped out her phone, facebook was already open in a tab when she opened her web browser. She only had to type in his first name before his profile showed up.
She needed something in her life to hold onto, and he had already found his. He had already found someone new and gotten two bonus children. Her heart ached, but she was happy for him. This was a man she had spent close to twenty years of her life with. Her feelings weren't supposed to die that quickly, and some part of her believed that the same went for him. He wasn't supposed to move on so quickly, he wasn't supposed to have a new family already.
She put the phone down and replaced it with her cup of tea, already cold. Already cold.
She tilted her cup and took to screaming. Hands in her hair she pulled to feel something, something that was real. Something that would calm her down.
It wasn't fair, it wasn't supposed to be like this.
Everyone saw her as something, a state of loss and grief.
She was supposed to act and behave a certain way.
She didn't want to be that something anymore, she wanted to be Ino again. Not the woman with a dead kid and ex-husband who moved on.
It wasn't her, it was breaking her down. It was an endless circle where one factor enabled the next and she was locked in the situation. She was truly locked.
She so desperately wanted to break lose, she couldn't take one more second of this silence. She wasn't ok, and it wasn't alright. She needed someone to fix her, someone to save her.
Down on the floor she felt as pitiful as ever, nails scratching the hardwood. Her throat was sore from the bawling and it felt like she would never get up again. She would never be able to stand on her feet again. So she screamed and she cried. Her heart rate was at an alarming pace but she didn't slow down.
"I miss you!"
She slammed her fist on the floor. She felt like she was lying in a puddle of her own fluids, saliva, snot and tears. She slammed her hand again. Hit an off nail that could have snagged her son's sock when he woke up in a few hours.
She kept living in the past by imagining what the present would look like. Each time forgetting herself and the life she was supposed to be living. She wasn't supposed to wonder what electives he would have at school, she should be thinking about getting out there again. Finding something to fill the gap her son had left.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Did you guys want me to continue or not?
Best regards,
Miss. Paranoid This Turnedadoto Shito (?)