Yo! You've reached Louis, although you already knew that. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now, so leave me a message and I'll get back to you.
It's been three weeks they say. Maybe it's time for you to focus on something else they say. Well you know what I say? Nothing. I don't say anything, ever. Nor do I move from the same spot in my room. The clothes I wore three weeks still hang from my empty vessel. Every now and again, there's a glance in the mirror where I crumble back into reality and see the damage before the void returns. It does get lonely and as much as I want to go downstairs and have a long talk with anyone who will listen, I can't. Three weeks is a long time, but I'm just not ready. I'm not ready to face society; a fake smile takes time to master. I'm not ready to see my family or friends. I'm not ready to be exposed to the many reminders of Louis. I like to listen to Louis' voicemail. Most people would call that crazy but I call it grieving. Missing a loved one. His voice is the only sound that was strong enough to fill the silence. The screaming silence. In the first week, it felt as though my senses were heightened. Everything was vibrant and loud. Sad and beautiful. In the second week, my emotions were fragile. There were peaks and deep lows. Something as simple as a fallen leaf could start a tsunami of tears. It was still the same. A fallen leaf is a dead leaf. The third week was nothing. Nothing yet everything all at once.
You see, he's here with me. I know what you're thinking. Louis is dead, you're delusional. But, I'm not. Louis sits at the end of the bed and plays with my hair. Okay, that does sound a little crazy but it's comforting. We're still kids in love. And I don't wanna grow up. This is my happy place. I'm not sure if I'm damaging myself by keeping him here but if I let him pass on, I'll have to say goodbye. I hate goodbyes. So I think I'll stick with what I have for now. Moving on is forgetting and I don't want to forget?
Just a small monologue I guess. Hope you guys liked it and if you want me to do anymore, drop me a comment :) thanks xxx
YOU ARE READING
It's Hard for Me to Say
Short Story"The trouble is, you think you have time. We surround ourselves with distractions to the point that we forget time eventually runs out." Three weeks after Connie loses her best friend Louis, she's still deep into the grieving process. His death was...
