So I was sitting, minding my own business, watching some TV, having a cup of tea and then it struck. A wave of grief. I had just happened to glance at a picture of G & me that’s found a place in my living room now. It’s the same picture where his eyes follow me across the room. And there he was – looking at me. Just not here.
Everything just stopped; including my heart.
And instantly I was back in Hubli, howling in his aunt’s house. I was back in his village watching him lying there under a while cloth. I was back in that horrible horrible morgue. It’s strange the amount of detail I remember about those days.
I tried to put it out of my mind; to think of something else. And all I could think of was how he laughed when he watched the sequel of the movie that was on right now. And how being deeply religious he still watched OMG so many times. Yup, not one meaningful thought came to my head.
I wish I was off these hormones, they don’t make things easy. I’ve been cooped up at home since I found out that the stim cycle failed. I’m still reeling from that shock. Writing seems to be the only distraction.
There is no way out of this is there?