It might just be in my head, but why are you still alive, killing me a little bit more each time I think of you...
---
Why are you still alive?
You died for me. You died on the day I found you kissing another woman in your office, when I brought you surprise lunch since it was our first marriage anniversary. It was your office colleague Rose, the one whom you always complained about at home, saying you didn't know why your boss still kept her in the office, given how incompetent she was. So, what exactly was she doing on your lap kissing you?
If I hadn't known any better, even on that day, I might not have gone to your office and not found out that you were cheating on me. I would have been your happy little wife, making you delicious lunches every weekend and with whom you went on trips together each year, exploring new places. Why are all the bucket lists of dreams we made together of trying new places, dishes, ideas and experiences now something I dread each time I think of them?
Each time, one of my relatives or friends asks me, "Lily, you mentioned before that you wanted to try this cuisine for so long", "You said you wanted to go to this new place, right? Did you? How was it?" and each of those questions is like a new scar on my heart, with a dull knife. Not a sharp knife that cuts and tears my heart out at one go, but, a very very dull knife that rips the flesh of my heart out each time it cuts and swings at it. What can I do then, except go to the nearest washroom and bawl my eyes out like a newborn baby asking for food and grasping for breath like a drowning person in the ocean almost at the edge of giving up since no one is there to help them.
But now that it's unfolded like this, I don't know what to do with our promises. All the promises, plans we made, all the places we wanted to visit, activities that we planned to do. All those new experiences I always looked forward to, but, why do they seem like such a burden now? They were the things that made me feel happy and excited just by thinking about them and filled my life with infinite hope, but now, they are the things that make me cry and wail thinking about them. If my entire life was a jar full of emotions, then, each time I think about them, they slowly add grief into that jar, little by little, so slowly and devastatingly that, I don't even know how they poured so much grief into my life. Why did you have to make it this way?
I still remember the day you signed your name on our divorce papers, "Ryan" in that neat cursive handwriting of yours. And I remember thinking, will he have kids with that cheating mistress of his, and teach them to write so neatly too? When they should have been mine and his? Am I making a mistake by leaving him? I mean, as bad a partner as he might act right now, I cannot think of a better father for my children in the future. Should I take him back? Revoke the divorce? Am I making a huge mistake right now proceeding with this?
I remember going down this big spiral when your sister noticed my eyes were blurred, and that my focus went somewhere and shook me back to earth and this miserable reality. And I still vividly remember her hugging me, saying that she's sorry, on your behalf, something you should have done, but never did. Not even once. You didn't even utter the word 'sorry' once till now. I remember how your sister reassured me that I made the right choice by leaving you, and she's cutting ties with you for doing that to me. And I felt my tears spring out my eyes, like some dam was stopping them, and was finally lifted, and they were free to come out now. And that's when I realized that no matter how many taunts your sister is going to get for being the black sheep of the family for dropping out of college and trying to become a singer, she's at least ten times a better person than you ever will be.
Now, six months after our divorce, I know that I did make the right choice, I really do believe so, but if that indeed is the case, then why are you still everywhere around me? Why can I still smell you whenever I go to any garden, cause of your favourite lavender cologne? Why do I still search for you in every theatre I go to, cause you were such a cinephile, and we went to a new movie each weekend. Why do I still make an extra portion for you each time I make your favourite lasagna? Why do I still say "Table for two" each time I go to a restaurant when it will just be me spending the time there, wondering how wonderful it would have been if you were there with me? How amazing we would have been together!
Why are you still around me? Why are you still there? Why are you everywhere?
I wish you were gone already…
I believed that you died for me the day I found you cheating on me. But why are you still all around me? Why are you still alive? It might just be in my head, but why are you still alive, killing me a little bit more each time I think of you?