DEAR BUTTERFLIES [ COMPLETED ]

9

Tw* mentions of blood

ELIZABETH'S POV

I should be feeling sad. 

I should be feeling broken, empty and shallow. Maybe even stupid and idiotic. Stupid enough to let myself go, to buy into words that maybe I was capable of change, a better life and a new start. Idiotic to think I'd be able to stop the voices and their taunts and tantrums, the relapse and more alcohol, the waves of sadness and smoke. Cruel and selfish maybe is what I should feel. Cruel to be enjoying drinks at a bar and selfish to think I can move on, create a new world, one without him. Selfish to dream of a happy home and a new family, to walk away from the grave. 

But I don't. 

I don't. I don't regret it, I don't regret feeling open and going to the bar. I don't regret every piece of life I enjoyed without him. 

Over the time I learnt to make friends with the dark. To live alone and not care about what people say. To deal and ignore broken pieces of me. 

I change decisions and emotions like dust changing its route, seasons changing their courses. My decisions sound like an untimely wind that comes and goes but never stays, at the end of the day, unpredictable and unstable. It makes me wonder what else I've carried on about in the name of grief and mourning, ended relationships and reputations on my constant burning of holding him back. Maybe I was wrong. But that's the thing about grief, it takes a toll on you like a tide on a virgin ship, sinking it to the pits of the ocean, a catastrophe. 

She was lying on the bed enveloped within a blanket of the sunrays which had managed to penetrate through the curtains, the morning birds and their chirps had filled the atmosphere with warmth and melody. But that's not what she had woken up to, what woke her up was the smell of chocolate pancakes and coffee, which had now completely taken over the room, maybe the house even. She slowly started to get up, cracking her back and muscles back into their place. It was a surprise that she didn't have a headache from all the drinks she had last night. The clock had just struck 8, it was still early considering it was a Sunday morning and she had no shifts to work. All her appointments were for the next day, why bother to wake up. She stood up looking at herself, she was wearing a white oversized shirt that reached upto her knees, she did not remember wearing that, maybe she had a little bit too much of a drink and forgot. 

The only thing she didn't recognize other than her clothes was the change of scenery, the room she was in was bright and had bright cream coloured walls, wooden floor and furniture and plants, it felt fresh and lively, something she felt unfamiliar to for a while. Her room was dull and pale, melancholic even, it had been the same since the past four months, post surgery. 

"Hello?", that was the only thing her mind could comprehend at the moment, as she walked out of the door. To say the house was beautiful was an understatement, it was filled with high ceilings, lots of plants and open windows, it looked like it came right out of a Pinterest picture. The other thing she noticed was medical equipment, the ones she was very familiar with, pill pulverizers and blood and glucose hangers rested in one corner of the living room right next to a blanket support padded chair and a white coffee table.