Just a day...just an ordinary day

The person who has been responsible for my Love's physical survival is dead. He passed away last night. He messaged me at 3 while performing the last rites. I was sleeping.

I couldn't bring myself to utter insincere words of consolation. Instead, for the first time in 4 years, I prayed to Jesus for a man I never knew.
He was my Love's doctor.


All day today, I wanted to hold his hand...he seems broken. He doesn't admit it, he doesn't cry, he is busy being a man. He'll be here tomorrow.

For about an hour today, all my jealousy, my insecurities, my grudges were replaced by this hollow voice, this weird unstable feeling of absolute helplessness...he says it hasn't sunk in yet. It seems surreal.

I have been trying to empathise, to share the pain but all my efforts seem cosmetic and I am afraid he knows it too.


Its a still summer night now and after a long day he has finally drifted off to sleep. I however find that useless banter is of much help...I am having a mock fight with a feisty friend and I see its working. I am not better, I am more diverted. Tinkling laughter, my own voice, is shocking me...after all that has happened today.

I thought of writing this out in better words but this is all I can manage...I hope to see him tomorrow. I hope to have him with me. We'll go out for dinner. The days will roll on. Without him.