The Bench

Cold, Calm, Cloudy.

Just the setting tells a story...

As I got older, I realised, the world is not what I once believed it to be. The more years that passed, the more familiar I was with my surroundings.

I settled into the cold wooden bench as though this is where I belonged. Each step I had taken to reach this space had hurt a little more than the last.

Why am I here again? Why does this have to happen? What should I have done? What COULD I have done?

I feel hollow, empty. I feel alone in a crowd full of people. I'm here to celebrate, yet what is there to be happy about? You can phrase it as you like, but that doesn't make it easier. Nor does it send the pain away. I'm not okay. Everyone keeps telling me I will be, that it'll get better. But how could they know that? They can't possibly understand how I feel, right?

With a heavy heart, I bury my head in my hands. Silently, the river begins to flow down my cheeks. My chest retracts and suddenly I find myself struggling to breathe, struggling to keep moving forwards in my own life.

This isn't fair!

Three small words, one horrible truth. How do i cope with this? Who can I speak to? Will anyone understand? My head is filled with questions that I just can't answer. What about the plans we made? The future we lost?

I always thought if we took this one step at a time, things would sort themselves out. In the end we would be okay. We would be happy again. But before I knew, too much was lost, and with it went hope. How can i ever love again?

Truth be told, I wanted that happily ever after. I wanted that fairy tale ending. A happy marriage, to buy a beautiful house in the suburbs where we would raise our 4 kids with a cat and a dog. But I guess it got too much. He couldn't hold onto the hope of the future any longer. They say time heals. Can time heal the loss of the love of your life though?

I look at my watch, and without knowing it I have now been sat on this bench contemplating everything for almost an hour. As 4pm quickly approaches I compose myself and get ready for the "celebration" of life. This is my last chance to say goodbye, but truth be told, I'm not ready. I don't want to say goodbye. I want to go back to the right time and place to stop this from ever happening. But I can't.

It's time.

As I walk up to the ceremony, I see familiar faces. Friends. Family. None of whom are the one face I wish I could see right now. I never thought this day would come, but here i am.

This is the start of my healing process, but in all honesty, I will never heal from this....

AUTHORS MESSAGE.....

The aim of this short story is to help people struggling with loss and grief. Although this is a fictional account, this is a day I fear myself. I want people to know you are not alone. Support is always available.

This story is written in first person narrative to get the reader to connect on a deeper level.

I started writing mood stories as an outlet for my own emotions to help process how I am feeling and I hope as the reader, this will help you too! I wrote this specific story after feeling particularly vulnerable in a personal situation with no intentions of posting it. However, the following day I lost someone very close to me unexpectedly, and after reading it again, I realised how much it helped me with the grieving process. I want to be able to share these experiences in the hopes of making it easier to talk about.

Even if my stories help one person, my goal is reached!

Thank You so much for your support!

-XoXo-