Verily, I have always been fond of those who are reticent, for one cannot discern if they are
lost
in reverie or bearing the weight of the world upon their shoulders. But the silence that my wife
embodied before her death made my soul heavy. I remember her words very clearly. She said, "I
can die peacefully now". These words ushered me to a deep-bottomless abyss, its shadows
clinging onto my feet, denying me access to escape. At some point, I didn't know if it would be
better to continue living or end my life with a simple cut, painless compared to my existence.
She was the light that shined into my life. As the curtains of death enveloped her, I soon found
myself sitting on the chair beside her bed. As I sat alone, memories of the joyful moments we
once shared flooded back to me, bringing a bittersweet mixture of happiness and longing. They
are like exhibits in a museum, preserved as untouchable relics of the past. We were once a dyad
in the force of nature.
It all started when we first saw each other in college. As our eyes met, they formed an
inseparable connection. I thought to myself that the possibility of Nova was better than the
reality of anyone else. At that moment, I knew she was the spark to my candle; I soon married
her. We later moved to a house perfect for our miniature-sized fixations. As we dropped our
luggage to the ground, words uttered out of pure melancholy came from her heart. She
proclaimed, "Dear, when I was a child, I contemplated that when I have a house of my own, I
shall be miserable if I do not have an excellent library."
This woman dared to convince me to build her a megalithic library filled with deep history about
the things she adulates. As life went on, we were given by God three beautiful children and a
linear income worthy of our status of the Baron and Baroness of Berkshire. Soon Mary(her
name) showed signs of pain and discomfort, so we went to the best doctor in London. He soon
diagnosed her with severe brain cancer. This tenebrous of knowledge brought me to a state of
disbelief. A woman of her stature surely cannot attract this vermin of a disease. I was sweating
profusely, and time stood still.
I felt a tingling sensation on my hands. The canvas of the world began to erase and brought to
reality I was. Doctors transferred me such dreadful news. My wife passed away while I was
sleeping, and I couldn't even say goodbye. The things I wanted to convey appeared impossible
after her untimely death. I will always blame myself for not comforting her before her soul
transferred to another plane.
Later, I transmitted this terrible news to my kids and my entire family. disheartened
