11

As the 11 month approaches, looking back to the things that have happened since Mali left us have been downright hazy.

Reflecting on the last year has shown me that even in her absence I am still breathing. Autopilot is a real thing. It’s how I operate most days. Ambivalence, numbness, anguish have become a part of my vocabulary. So is hope, smiling and good days.

I cant seem to bring myself to sit in her bedroom. Untouched mostly from the day she left this world. It makes me melancholy and I don’t need help with that department.

Mostly I long for escape. Escape from this pain, from this house, from this city and everything that reminds me of her. This is naturally impossible while  she is always at the front of my mind. Trying  to push her away won’t solve my issues.

Life kept moving on. Mostly watching it as an onlooker and not particularly interested. This is probably not a good path either.  It’s safe though and doesn’t require much energy.

A close family member is fighting for their life. I am helpless to do anything but watch and try to comfort. I know what lies at the end of that path. I am terrified to go there.

I’m not sure what is worse, not getting to say the I love you’s and goodbyes or watching a close loved one suffer.

I don’t have the luxury of pondering that road at the moment. It’s fucked up that God doesn’t operate on my schedule. Instead he lays down more shit on my plate. I don’t think he realizes the plate holder is broken and out of superglue.

Spring is almost here. Robins have come back and have been cleaning the apples of last year off her tree. The green will be back soon and I am still here watching the wheels.

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