
Beware: Lotsa grammar mistakes. Im too lazy to fix it.
She looks at herself in the mirror. It was bright nice 4 pm afternoon, where the orange shadow pierces through her big wide window, and falls perfectly on her right cheek accentuate the height of her cheekbone. She smiles looking at the reflection. Painful smile that has lots of stories in each corner of her mouth. There she is, skinny looking woman in her peach satin wardrobe that hung loosely on the chest and snug perfectly on her hips. She lets out a sigh, arms down and shoulder couching.
The sun is still as bright as ever, minutes after 4 in this island. She squinted her eyes trying to capture the light with her stare. It pains her but she doesn't care for anything that feels more pain than what she's feeling now. She walks to the bed and throws herself down, stares at the ceiling, counting imaginary boxes that would fit to the width of it.
"Sweetness, I count 32 boxes that fit there. How many do you have?"
She turns to the empty space on her right. " I got me 34"
She is murmuring a man's voice.
You always top me by 2 boxes.
She bites her lip as the silent conversation she had with herself feels a bit too stabbing.
"Look at me, love. Look at me. I am way prettier than I was before cuz I juts lost myself 5 pounds for you. For every memories that connect me to you. For every breath without you that chokes me.
And look at me love, look at me. Peach colored satin dress that falls perfectly juts right above my knees, swaying frills sweep smoothly on my thighs, reminds me of your smile, and the smell of your after shave. And the way you are looking at me. And look! This is your favorite dress, and I'm wearing it for you."
Her voice echoes in the emptiness of her room. Only her shadow dares to answer, and she felt something slowly strolling down her cheeks. Wetting her mouth with its saltiness. She licks them. One after another. They are racing down to reach her mouths and she is almost gagging trying to swallow every drops.
How do I stop this, she whispers. Stop every object that will burst from a mere inch of my memories of you. How do I stop looking back, looking for you. How do I make you go. Can I erase you. Can I turn you into an invisible ink that appears only if I allow you. Can you not let me die within this pain. Erase me the pain of you. Erase you from my life. Erase me.
She lays there motionless. Dried track of tears on both of her cheeks glows from the orange sunlight that peaks through her big windows.
The pain is circling inside her head. She shakes her head, and gets up in a jolt.
I know how to make it disappear. She felt fire burning in her eyes as she slowly undress. I know how to melt you into nothing. She felt the warmth of the sun on her skin and stands before the window. Naked. Her dress hanging on her right hand, and she clutches it hard.
She opens the window. The wind breezes on her face and she closes her eyes feeling every kiss of it. I'm erasing you love. Simply because you wont erase yourself. She extends her right hand out. The clutch on her dress is weakening and she's feeling the satin materials caress her palm as it slips to slowly fall. One two three..off you go.
The beautiful dress dances on the wind, swaying prettily. She looks down at it feeling like half of her soul was being yanked out. It pains her yet it relieves her. She knows and realizes that she can't get trapped on peach satin color of pretty dress or on any object that screams his name. She knows she has to let go. And the only answer for her emptiness is only by filling it.
The dress was pretty. The memories were pretty. And today she feels less than pretty. But a lot more strength. She knows the only way to erase him is to never look back.
She sighs.
Down stairs, clanging of plates signaling her for dinner. As the clouds of her minds clear up she can hear people talking and laughing down stair. She feels the bite as she know life is supposed to begin again.
From down stair a voice calls to her.
"Emilyyyyy.. Dinneeeer.."
She forces herself to smile. She has just pulled the band-aid in one go. It stings still but the wound has stopped. She puts on white T-shirt and old jeans, ties her hair back and looks at herself in the mirror.
Pale. But lives.
It will all be ok. Life is supposed to begin again.
Now.
. I love you gazzilion.
. Indeed babe, life begins again. And it will begin right at the time when you take that step forward. Im learning to treat the past as what it really is. The past. I wont be able to go forward if i keep lookin back. 3 yrs is long enuff.
Need all the support i can get.
. Its time I let myself see the sun. Thanks hon.