Losing my guiding light

I sometimes forget to breathe.

I curl up on the floor, encasing myself within the walls, too scared to leave. I keep the window shut, covered by the curtains and blind so I don’t even have the chance to glimpse the world outside. The room is always dark; everything masked in deep shadows so my worries can swim in someplace other than inside of my mind.

Sometimes the worry fades into a dull nothingness. A state where I have no feelings, no thoughts, nothing. In that trance, I stare into space for hours, feeling empty… I may not be a person anymore, but I can't tell if I’m even living then I'm like that. Sometimes the nothingness is worse than the constant anxiety, and I beg to worry again. I dive into the deepest parts of my mind, willing to relive my worst memories so that I can feel something, anything at all.

I used to go outside, used to play and run, I used to be happy. But then… she happened. Summers on the beach, surfing and suntanning on the shoreline. Sand between my fingers as we laughed and clinked plastic cups spilling over with pink lemonade, her smile wide and face smeared with smudged sunscreen. We used to run onto the courts, hitting the ball back and forwards as the hours ticked by in the background, only leaving when the sun started setting. She was my world, the one who stayed when everyone else pulled away. She was always there.

She was always there… until she wasn't. I was with her that day, we walked past buildings chatting and laughing, she ran ahead onto asphalt, without a care as she chased a butterfly darting through the air, she didn't look to see the blur of white approaching rapidly. Too fast to move, too fast to react, and my scream echoed out, mixing with that horrible sound. Blood splattered as I froze in place, paralysed by shock and disbelief… that was the first time I forgot to breathe.

I don’t remember much about what happened after, only that she was gone and she was never coming back… my entire world was destroyed in a single moment. I shut down, slamming doors in the faces of those who tried to help but could never even begin to grasp what I was going through. She was just a person to them, but to me… she was the only thing keeping me in reality. I sought escape from anyone who reminded me of her, reminded me in any way at all. I locked the door to the outside, and have been dealing with the grief in isolation. That is the way I have been for weeks.

It wasn't perfect isolation though… this room is part of a university dorm, and everyone here is a classmate of mine, at least they were before I stopped going to classes. I think they pity me, someone leaves meals outside of my door, always knocking twice before leaving, never trying to talk. They leave me in here alone. It makes me feel… something, knowing there is at least someone who cares enough about me to bring me food… it grounds me in a way, letting me think that I could connect to someone else other than her, to move on. I could learn, I could be a person again… but I worry about what I could lose, I don’t know if I could make connections if they could disappear without warning like they did before.

I've been thinking about this for a while, thinking about what she would've wanted for me, and I've realised that this wouldn’t have been it. She wouldn't want me to get caught on the past, but move forward, she'd want me to live. My fears are real, but they're not as bad as I think they are, only a longing for connection again being held back by the loss. So I've decided, I'm going to try again.

Standing up, I open a drawer and throw a jumper over the clothes I've been wearing for days, and walk over to the window. I remember when I first closed it, depriving myself of sunlight because my life was so dark. When the curtains swayed and fell together, meeting in the middle of the frame, and I didn't dare to touch them after they stopped moving. I push the curtains aside, and watch light creep through the bottom of the blind as I pull on the string. Revealed to me was something I haven’t seen for a while, the outside world.

It's not sunny though, like it had always been when I was with her, but it's raining. The window slides open and I hear the cascading water droplets as they pour down softly from the sky. The sky appears as a deep sea, painted with streaks of grey that swirled through the space softly. I used to long for the sun, the bright specks that painted the trees as warm light shone from high above, but as the rain falls, it gives me a feeling of tranquillity, as if each droplet that falls is dissolving my worries.

And I feel a different kind of peace… one estranged from the version bathed in darkness. A kind of peace that's more complete, more whole.

My door creaks quietly as I step out of my room, and I walk through the hallways. The building is empty, misted afternoon light streams through the windows, revealing the tiny specks of dust drifting through the empty space bathed in cool light. I step outside and walk down the path, socks soaking the fallen rain off the old brick. I find myself in the middle of the courtyard, marked by the ancient copper statue of the university founder standing proudly.

I sit down on the damp concrete, not really noticing it as I look up at the face of the statue. He has a smile on his face, continuing through the rain as if nothing could sway him. The legs of the statue are scuffed and worn, and it reminds me of myself in a way, about what I've been through. How it still shows, and I don’t think I will ever fully heal from it, but I can continue on from it.

I stand from the ground and look around at the scene around me. It's still raining, lighter than a storm yet stronger than a drizzle. My clothes are soaked and my hair sticks to my face, but I push it aside. Rain used to make me feel a sense of gloom, but it's different now… I feel hope, peace, a chance to move on.

So I stand, letting the rain fall from above, and stand with the decision to continue on my life in the way she would have wanted, not by mourning her, but honouring her by bringing her memory with me as I explore the world here and beyond.

And I didn’t forget to breathe this time.