The bar was crowded filled with people, smoke and noise. Her friends were all chatting around her, the different conversations buzzing in her ears. It had been an hour since she’d been asked if she wanted something to drink other than her Sprite. After her third emphatic no, no one had pressed her any further, for which she was grateful since she wasn’t quite ready to discuss why she wasn’t drinking.
She toyed with her straw as she watched one particular animated conversation between two of her friends. A small smile graced her face as they discussed the merits of Hugh Jackman, which she had to admit were a great many. The decision to come out tonight was a good one she thought, she had missed this; the easy camaraderie of friends, the talking about major and trivial things, or not talking about anything at all.
As the conversation changed to the many attributes of Brad Pitt, whom she thought was completely overrated, her eyes wandered the room and rested on a couple at the bar.
She watched as they shared a smile that was meant for only each other, and felt the blood rush out of her face. An ache, sharp and all too familiar, went through her body as she watched them lace their fingers together. All the conversations and noise faded until she heard nothing but the rapid beating of her heart. She started to feel slightly nauseous and could feel the control on her emotions slipping.
She quickly stood up telling her friends that she was going to get some fresh air, that she’d be back in a few minutes. She rushed toward the front door so she couldn’t see the doubt on their faces.
She stood outside breathing the air, that while still not exactly clean and fresh, was infinitely better than the air in the bar.
‘Tavern’ she mentally corrected herself. Her friends had been hounding her for months that she needed to get out of the apartment and have a night out. She finally agreed, but on the condition that it was not to be a big deal, just a quiet night out and that she wouldn’t be drinking. Of course, they brought her to a bar.
‘Months’, she thought. How her life had changed, how much she had changed in just the span of a few short months. Months, that had felt like years. She smiled automatically at the two older gentlemen that passed her to walk into the bar. The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
She should count her blessings that she had friends that cared enough about her to try and help her through the darkest hours. Sitting with her for hours as she just sat and stared at the walls, just waiting, waiting for what would never come. After a while, they tried to get her to leave the apartment, anywhere, just to get away from it and the memories contained within its four walls. At first, she declined by saying that she still needed time to heal, to try and just get through the day. But when they got more insistent, claiming that staying in the apartment wasn’t healthy, that she couldn’t hide from the world forever, that she should go see someone or join a support group, she lashed out at them in anger. It was quite a while before anyone tried again.
She could still feel the echo of fury and desolation she felt. Thinking that there was no way for them to understand that trying to find the will to live again had not been an excuse. Trying to remind herself to breathe, grieving for what had been lost had been no excuse. They didn’t know what it was like to hold your lifeline, your only family in the world in your arms while he died. To hear his last words pleading not for his life, but to ask you to live on for him. To watch as a part of your heart, part of your soul is lowered into the cold, hard ground. To never be able to touch that beloved face, hold his hand or even hear his goddamn snore ever again. It wasn’t because of some foolish argument leading to a breakup, it wasn’t a choice that either one of them had made. It had been someone else’s choice; someone else who had decided to end a life and destroy hers.
She shook her head. No, until everything they cherished was taken away from them, none of her friends would ever understand. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe that no one would, everyday people lose someone they love. She knew she wasn’t alone in this, that there were people she could talk to, but all the talking in the world wouldn’t change a thing, it wouldn’t bring him back. One day, she had known that it was time to move on, just as he wanted, but she had to do that on her own, at her own pace, her own way.
She had taken her first steps by cleaning the apartment. She had been amazed at how filthy it had become and the smell was not much better. She went to the grocery store, went through the mountain of mail that had piled up, and had a small setback when she picked up the dry cleaning and saw his favorite shirt in the clear plastic bag. But she picked herself back up, and took a bigger step…agreed to a night out with her friends. Even as she laughed with them, she felt a stab of pain, but it was a relief that she could laugh.
She rested her hand on her stomach and thought that laughter was an excellent beginning to the new chapter in her life that was beginning.
It wasn’t until later that night when she was in that place between reality and dreams, that a stray thought crossed her mind.
She hadn’t had to remind herself to breathe.
Posts
