“My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
‘Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.
‘What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
‘I never know what you are thinking. Think.”
― T.S. Eliot
It is 12:30 in the morning. Sounds like a reasonable time to be writing, right? It is not normal. Way not normal for me. I have managed to zone out for at least two hours. You might imagine that I am sleeping. No, not sleeping, but hovering somewhere in this twilight land I keep finding. Did I see my dead husband? I thought I did. I talked to him because I heard him say, “I love you, baby.” I smiled and calmly replied, “I wuv-e-d you too.” Saying it that way was one of those cute little games we played, sort of like the typical “I wuv you more.” We were married for nearly 20 years and we still acted like newlyweds. I heard him tonight and I saw him. I saw him standing at the end of the couch. Just a blur, really, but I know it was Doyle. He looks so happy whenever I see him now. Later, I want to scream and ask, “Why are you so happy. How can you be happy,” but I never think of it at the time. All I can think is I love you.
I keep considering all the life going on around me. Everyone around me seems oblivious to my pain while I remain locked in a bubble from which I cannot escape. Then, there is that damn twilight land to which I keep traveling. I do not know if it is even a real place. If I have music playing, I do not even hear it. If I have the television on, I do not sense it. It is just me, well, not just me, but everything that is me, mostly memories of the man I miss so much. I think I go there when I cry so much. I think it is the last stop before my mind snaps and my heart completely breaks. I think I remember reading about it somewhere. It is the mind’s last-ditch effort of retaining sanity. It may not be such a bad place to live though.
Flashes of light. Sounds. That damn buzzing noise. Love. Peace. Laughter. I could live there. I could do without the buzzing noise, but I could live there. Sometimes I imagine just how easy it would be to let go. Grief lives in me now and threatens to annihilate Hope constantly. Hope is tiring. Hope is dying. I think that living in the twilight land could revive Hope. I think chains could restrain Grief and I could smile again and dream of tomorrow.
Reality always manages to creep into my twilight land. Grief returns and Hope cowers in the corner while I cry. It is ironic that I never cried much in the past. I laughed a lot. I cling to the pillow upon which my husband took his last breath, praying that I see him in my dreams. One of the last things I think is, please, please, please…, but the very last thought that crosses my mind before I drift into slumber is I love you. I could learn to live in my twilight land for many reasons, but mostly because he would be there with me.
©2012 Relinda R.