Above Us Only Sky

Imagine there's no heaven...

Tom has lots of time on his hands when he falls ill, he looks back at his short life, contemplating and try to fathom out what went wrong in his world when everything comes crashing down.


8. Chapter Eight

We all live inside our bubbles, protected from the outside world by the walls we put up and the protection that our friends and family give to us. I lay at home totally exhausted from the whole experience in hospital. I’d been scared when I’d heard that it had been touch and go, yet I reverted to type and tried to not appear concerned, still said I’m OK when asked, put on that unconcerned recovering face.

I wonder at times why I do this, why do I always say I’m OK, even though I’m hurting inside, even to those who were closest to my heart. I put on the façade of being well, improving even though I knew I was far from that. The mind was recovering but the body was weak. I also sensed a change in my flower child. A little more distant than before, almost not there at times.

She had been the star in my sky for a long time. Blazing bright in the sky. My guiding light. My inspiration. The source of my wanting to better myself everyday. I’d fallen in love with her words only, not an image but the words she wrote, the way she smiled through those sentence’s, Before I saw her face I knew she were beautiful inside, not like the others, something of the highest order, someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

She twinkled above my world but as the days went on the intensity of the light started to dim. With every conversation I sensed she was leaving me. The love I detected wasn’t as strong. In myself I started to panic, started to have the shadows return to my dreams. My flower was in there but wasn’t there for me. She lurked with the shadows. I woke at times in a cold sweat, tears rolling down my cheek. I sensed the indecision she felt more and more each day and waited for the storm I knew would come.

I remember the words she wrote, understood her motives realising that I couldn’t ask her to stay. I had little fight left in my body, more a tired realisation that I couldn’t alter anything. I’d always said I wanted her to be happy, I thought, vainly, that meant with me. I didn’t want to hold her back. If I was making life for her unhappy then how could I stay. As much as I wanted her to stay I could never ever hold her back, her happiness mattered more to me than mine.

If I’m honest the night that the sky fell in and the star stopped shining was the most painful of my life. My flower child was everything to me, others had come before but none I loved with the intensity I felt for her. She infected every part of my life, every part of my feelings and every corner of my thoughts. It was like having all my limbs ripped from my body at the same time.

That night the lights went off in my little world, the pain I felt physically and mentally were the worse of my entire experience. However, I knew she had to get out of the rut I had created, lift herself once again to the skies and fly happily through life. I wish she could have stayed but I had nothing to offer her, nothing to convince her. I was another bump in the game we call living.

That night I came closest to taking all those tablets that were sustaining my life. Funny how they can have the opposite effect as well. At one point I had the bottles open in front of me, maybe that was the best thing to do, end it all. I wondered who would care if I did, would there be people who were sad, would anyone realise. I knew that apart from a few families there would be no one who mourned my passing. Most would think I’d just gone off line, which in a way I was. I’m a coward though and I knew in the end it wasn’t going to solve anything, it wouldn’t bring my flower child back.

I lay awake until the streaks of morning started to paint their way across the blackness of the heavens. Dawn slowly breaking on my life and the realisation that I was alone. I would say I felt abandoned except I knew she had to go.

The next few days were hard, physical and emotional pain merged to make the week seem more like a month. At times I’d check my phone in the off chance there might be a text, but I guess she was being kind as I’m not sure how I could take it if she had, but when you’re alone you never really think straight. I sat that day cursing myself for the missed opportunities, the chances I had, it was my fault, I could have stopped this. As the week went on the despair built up in me. My sister, as if sensing something, removed the tablets from my bedside making me ask for them when I needed them.

Life has to go on, but now it felt like I was walking through life in a prison. 

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