A pensive letter to nobody in particular.

04:45 am

There are nights when i cannot sleep and have to accustom myself to caffeine and nicotine to stay awake and avoid my treacherous thoughts.

It is quite except for the sound of my ceiling fan, keyboard and the occasional vehicle on the road. I write this because i am restless, sleep escapes me when i try catching up to it.

Mumma won’t leave my mind. It has been exactly a month since she departed from us and i can’t stop thinking about the woman who birthed me, who nursed me, who taught me, who loved me and whom i loved so very dearly that the thought of her now makes my heart ache.

I wish to see her again, i wish so badly to join her but not now, for quite some time because i have got things to do for her, finish what she started, help her help me reach the dream she wished for me.

I can’t stop seeing her smile, i’m unable to put an end to these painful flashbacks, i can’t stop them from engulfing my mind every single time i sit idle.

So i write, it is saddening to think of her, in her grave, buried into the soil she grew me upon.

I am melancholic, i am miserable, i am gloomy, sorrowful i am all of these words and more i am a grieving child.

I cannot seem to forget my mother’s image, the hospital, the smell of the diseased and the disinfectants from the broom closet.

The heart monitor, beep-beep-beep it’s maddening, it won’t stop!

make it stop it annoys my mother, yes it does she told me it does, no, i am seeing things again. I’m in desperate need for her lap to lay on, i cannot sleep, i am restless.

I do not care for how i write for this is no piece of poetry, nor a story, these are my feelings which go beyond comprehension. I cannot forget her suffering, the ventilator, the injections, the blood clots, the wounds, the screams for mercy the screams for help, her screams for god her screams for life, she wanted to live, she fought so hard, she fought for 31 days, she fought and she fought, family came, everyone came, but life didn’t come.

the shrieks came, the tears came, the silence came, the life didn’t come, the heart monitor finally stopped beeping and though it used to irritate me before, i would’ve done anything that moment to hear it beep again rather than watch her die and help her close her eyes for the first time, for the last time.

I saw her, lying there motionless, she was never a woman who would sit still for anything, i just stood there shaking her begging for her to come back and fucking hold me again.

Hold me, i can’t do anything without you mom, i am nothing without you please don’t leave, i called out to her, with each cry for a miracle my calling grew louder and i had to be pulled out of the MICU.

They unplugged her, then they wrapped her and then i saw her get pushed into a freezer for preservation, for your final goodbye 2 days later.

It brings me to my knees sometimes, it makes me pick a corner to cry into, silently for i must put a brave front for everyone because all they want is for me to stay strong, it is impossible to stay strong at a time like this when will they understand that it is only one containing themselves until they can excuse themselves to go to that damn bathroom stall sink to the floor and let their soul weep? Stop being sympathetic that my mother left me, if you want to be of any use distract me or let me grieve quietly.

I would kill to make her laugh, her laugh was the most beautiful sound, it made me laugh, it brightened me up, i hear it all the time, echoing in my mind.

I am in pain, it has been 31 days of pure misery and i am a total mess trying to gather myself back together.

Her hugs were like a big summer heat wave, warm and it hit you with so much force you would be sure to get squished, her hugs shielded me from most of my fears, her hugs were full of life and love, just like her. The last time we cuddled reminded me of sharing my bed with her every single night until at 13 i told her i was too grown up to sleep next to her, i wish i hadn’t, now i wish to sleep next to her and hold her while she’d stroke my hair and put me to sleep.

I can describe her hugs and cuddles as my favorite memory but the only thing i can remember so vividly and feel so clearly is her stone cold corpse. Frigid, nothing like her.

I avoid the cold, the season i loved, for the fear that something might trigger these memories, or something of the exact temperature might fall into my hands.

I love the summer now, summers were just like her. Summers are beautiful, just like her.

I shivered, shook and crumpled on the inside, as i slowly dropped mud and gravel onto her coffin, those tapping noises almost mocked me, they screamed at me that no matter how hard the pebbles fell, she couldn’t hear a thing and that was the last time i called out to her.

I haven’t gone to her grave as yet and i’m scared to wreck myself for a second time and this time i’d be on my own.

I will try not to let my lips tremble at the sound of your name or the questions asked about you, I can’t promise that i’ll stop looking for corners to cry into, but i promise i will cry only when i really need to. You are my everything, and i will always cherish you, there can be no you and i will always love you.

You told me i was the most precious earning of your life, you were wrong. You were the most precious earning of mine.

Everything i do, I do for you.

Goodbye mom, rest among the angels for you deserve nothing less.

I miss you.

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First kiss

I spoke to a girl, during a bus ride to my hometown, it was a long tiresome ride that would consume half my day and the first few hours of my night.

We immediately clicked and spoke about various things, it was evident we  would be companions long after we parted ways.

She asked me a single question during the last few hours of discussing our past relationships “what was your first kiss like?”

It struck me that, I didn’t know what first kiss she wanted to know about.

You know..when you ask someone about their first kiss, it could trigger memories of so many first kisses.

First kiss with the opposite sex.

First kiss with the same sex.

First kiss with your first lover.

First kiss after your first breakup.

First kiss during your first fling.

First kiss with your first life partner when you get married.

I told her “you’ll have to specify, I’ve had many first kisses”

She frowned and said “well uh, your first kiss like your actual first passionate kiss with a boy?”

I corrected her, “My first passionate kiss was with a female”

She smiled silently to herself first and then looked at me, “mine too”

We parted ways that night, but we didn’t part lives.