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" 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞..."
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𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.The stages of grief are the same. The orders in which they appear are different for everyone. Some pray and ask for someone to come back. Begging, pleading for them. The drowning of sadness makes some choke on their own tears. The anger that builds up like a cover over a boiling pot of water until it bursts. The denial that shields you like a covering from the pain that's being endured.
Finally, peace.
There's no more suffering, there's no more sadness or bargaining. It's simply acceptance. It's the last stage that doesn't change no matter the person. Acceptance is the ability to accept the situation one is placed in and accept the fate of it. It's easy once you reach it, but the trip to it is painful.
Moving from Clearwater Beach on the western side of Florida all the way to London, England was supposed to be Estelle's acceptance. Away from the reminders. Away from the memories. Away from the one she loved the most.
But there she was, twenty-four hours away from heading on a plane, laying on her bed in her bedroom that had been stripped bare of every poster, every sticker and every layer of clothing that was once in her hamper. The only thing left in her room was the frame and mattress of her bed and the covers of it.
It was raining at eleven in the morning and she knew it would only last ten to fifteen minutes. That was typical Florida weather. She loved the way the rain smelled and how the raindrops would fall on the window and I would race them in my mind.
She most likely would have if she could make it out of my bed. Her convinced herself her body was incapable of moving from underneath the covers of the bed. Clinging onto a pillow, Estelle cried tears that did not stop as much as I wanted them to.
Memories flooded her mind like a dam that had been broken. She remembered how warm he felt, the way his loose shirts clung to his body, the way his eyes sparkled as the sun hit them, the endless amount of smiles that headed her way whenever he saw her. She still felt his lips moving against hers. For the first time in her life, she regretted remembering the way his lips moved when he said " I love you".
She believed it was her fault, in a sense. Her heart made a one way trip to heartbreak lane once she repeated the words " I love you" to him back. Vulnerability never made sense to her until then
" Mami, can you please knock?" Estelle flipped on her side away from her mother, towards the wall, when she heard her come in.
Her mother sighed, "I know you are upset and you feel like the world is crushing you. It's been two weeks."
