In 7 days George dies.
My world froze in time and a geyser of misery erupted. The pain and disorientation consumed my days and left me trying to stanch the flow in any way possible. So much so that I did things I regret, lost friends I cared for, and compromised who I am. Eventually I learned that time keeps moving forward. Time became my silent killer. It keeps moving forward and waits for no one. Either you’re moving with it or you live in the past.
But as I was drowning, never once did I stop trying to get to shore. I wanted to reinvent and feel in control. And for awhile I wasn’t gasping anymore. I was finally touching land. But then the scab split open and the misery poured down on me again and pulled me back under. I’ve lost my footing. Except this time I have clarity. I see what’s happening, and I know what’s coming for me. It’s worse this time around. I’m not in shock, I’m not wondering if he’ll still be alive tomorrow. He’s not. And I’m watching this replay and I don’t want to feel it happen again.
Im watching the worst movie created and I know what happens to the hero in the end.
Each day I can see his gaunt face, and icy blue eyes when I wake up. When I go into work, when I come home and when I go to sleep, I see his face every time I blink. And I can’t do anything. My brain won’t shut off.
I’m awake in a nightmare once again. My grief and memory are holding me ransom. But what’s the exchange?