Since you left, this week, I’ve not been able to come in here, I know you know but I just want to tell you. I have no one else to tell, to speak to. People are taaalking to me, they really are however each time they do my subconscious kicks in, “You’ve heard that before”. By the way I feel like I’ve lost some kilos around my neck, the nods I’ve done.
The first two days, I slept in the living room—see the irony?— on your favorite couch. I was a mess. I’m still a mess, a better mess. The day before yesterday, I slept with our babies, I still am. I laid between them, and believe me they both placed their arms on my chest. God, I cried silly—It was so emotional. They were protecting me, shielding my broken heart. Literally I was a baby. But it did not last for long, you know them. By the time I’m waking up, V’s ass is on my face and P is clumsily lying on my feet. We were a good mess!
I need, I don’t want, I need to spend this last night with you. I’m sitting on the edge of our bed. Our—after God, I’m afraid of this word.
If there was a time I’d go to any lengths to be blind, it’s now. Each time I close my eyes, all I see is you. And when I open…
You are here, I know. I can feel you.
This bed is so big, so much space. It is more yours than it is ours. Sorry, was. Woman, you almost kicked me out of it. You actually did, remember that night…
The tears are ruining this moment. I had told myself that I’ll not cry, that I’ll smile well try to but no, my ducts are having none of that.
Did I make you happy? Were the times that I made you happy more than when I made you sad? Was I a loyal friend? Was I a loving husband? Was I a great dad to our babies? I know you are yelling “T, how many times have I told you to stop doubting yourself?!” This is T we are talking about, your T, the one that over thinks almost everything, no everything. The one you fell in love with.
I love you. Nothing has changed, I love you so much. Did I ever tell you that you becoming a mother made me fall in love with you more? You were something else. This speaking in past tense when referring to you makes me feel sick. How did this even happen?
Whose gonna kiss me now that you are gone? In the kitchen, whose waist will I hold? Who will sleep on my chest during the better part of a movie on a supposed movie night? Who will upset me simply because I can’t find my socks from the last place I saw them? Who will cook for me chapos? Who will assure me that everything will be alright during my bad days? Who will help me change diapers? Who will I make love to? Who? It kills me. It does.
I had to get that out. Your pillow is wet with my tears. This is more than pain. I know what pain is, how it feels but I don’t know what this is or how I feel.
It breaks my heart that tomorrow, darkness will be home to your flesh yet you were so afraid of the dark. Your spirit belongs to the light, I know. Your soul was rare.
Can I ask for a favor? Could we switch sides, I sleep on your side and you on mine? Please, just this one night. It is the only way I’ll feel more closer to you.
You are my answered prayer. The one He kept for me. My woman. My girl. My partner in crime. The mother of our babies. My everything. Everything is you.
And no this is not goodbye. Goodnight my C.
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