Recovery

-1-

I still can't understand how people move on with their lives so easily. Yes they go through months and months of sadness and excruciating pain but how do they live so normally after that?

My grandmother had once told me "that life is like a game show host, his job is to throw challenges at you, he will do his job sincerely, it's up to us to make it through them"

She was always full of wise words like that, I'd lay down with my head on her lap listening to all things she used to say with pure admiration.

But when my grandfather died, I literally couldn't recognise her anymore. She looked lifeless and depressed. She'd cry all day long.

It was painful to watch her like that. The woman who was my role model, my inspiration, the woman who once seemed unbreakable like the strongest lady on earth, seemed beyond broken. It was so hard to believe, I mean yes she'd just lost her husband whom she was married to for over 40 years, but I didn't think it was possible for her to become so damaged. She was strength personified.

After a few months when I had gone to visit her, she seemed much better. Yes she still missed him terribly, but she'd moved on and I was glad. She was the same wise old woman again who I'd missed. She told me "that when a loved one dies, it feels like you're stuck in a dark cave, but if you just look ahead there will always be an exit to the cave, you just have to convince yourself to walk towards the light."

Not that easy grandma, not easy at all. According to me she didn't feel as much pain as I am right now, I know that's a mean thing for me to say but I won't take it back. She knew grandpa was going to die, he was really sick. She got her time to mentally prepare herself.

But I? I didn't get any. It's like one day he was there and now he isn't anymore. Like I can't even understand. All I remember is laying in my bed tapping my phone screen waiting for him to reply to my message.

I was so mad at him. I was mentally preparing a speech of the things I would say to him when he calls, and that's it. The next thing I know, my parents were rushing me to the hospital.

I didn't even know what was happening, it was all a blur. They took me to a room where I saw his parents crying. Why were they crying? I couldn't understand what was happening. I walked towards a bed where he was. He looked so beautiful and calm, like he had nothing to worry anymore.

I ran my hand through his lush black hair like I always did.

My parents and his parents moved out of the room to give me some space and time to cope with what I was witnessing. But what they'd failed to understand was that I'd never ever be able to cope with this.

It finally dawned up on me. Reality finally hit me in the face. I sat there trying to form some words but they never left my mouth. I was completely blank, which was foreign to me because I was a talker and I always knew what to say.

I shook him repeatedly yelling for him to get up. He never did.

I don't remember what happened after that, because the next thing I knew I was back home.

I was currently looking up at the stars in the hopes that he was looking down at me and smiling.

His smile, I could go on for days about his smile. That one smile was enough for me to forget about everything, it was so mesmerising, so captivating.

I would never see it ever again. Never would I ever hear his beautiful voice again, his perfect blue-green eyes that I'd never get tired of looking at.

I would never be able to touch him, to kiss him, to run my hand through his perfectly set hair, never hear him play his guitar or sing to me, never know how it'd feel to make love.

He's just gone. Gone without any warning, gone without a trace left.

He'd taken the time to write me a letter, and he'd saved a voicemail on his phone which he couldn't send to me in time. I didn't have the strength or courage to read or listen to them.

On the envelope he had written "I'm sorry baby I didn't mean to do this to you, but I know you, you're a fighter okay? You'll recover from this."

I found out one thing after reading that, he didn't know me at all. Does he honestly think I'll be able to move on? Does he think that saying sorry will just magically make everything okay?

Nothing will ever be okay. It is impossible for me to live without him. How can he do this to me. He's just gone and he knew that he would and he didn't even tell me. He died. He left me all alone in this world to fend for my self, to live my life.

Doesn't he get it?

I don't fucking have a life anymore. A life without him is not even imaginable. I will never have him around me everyday, to tell me how beautiful I look or how I suck at driving or that my smile drives him crazy.

I will never be able to hug him, will never have anyone to hold me at night. He just left me to live a painful, pointless life without him.

There is no recovering from this...

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Hey guys, so I got this sudden idea and I just wanted to put it in words! Hope you like it! And please tell me if it made you cry bc that's what I'm aiming for, sorry 😅.

This my second book, well sort of bc I stopped writing that bc I wasn't very confident with it.

If there's a mistake please point it out. Open to criticism so please give me reviews.

I really hope you like it! Thank you for reading

I love you soooooooooooooo much😘✨💕

-Smruthi x