#3: Provide your stream of consciousness during the the worst nightmare you’ve ever had.
What are you doing here in my room? Wait, hang on, are you sick? Oh no, you’re sick. You’re going to die tomorrow, aren’t you? I don’t know how I know, but I know you’re going to die tomorrow. Mum and dad knows too, don’t they? Yes, they do. This time around we know.
You don’t look sick, what are you sick of? But I’m glad we know you’re going to die tomorrow, we can spend the entire day today together. Our very last day, at least we know you’re going to die tomorrow. Here, sit on the bed with me, I know you’re in pain, but at least we can spend this time before tomorrow comes by.
Will I awake soon? No, please, I don’t want to wake up. Somehow I know that if I wake up, you won’t be here with me anymore. I know you won’t be here. Please don’t go. Look, I’m hugging you. I’ve never hugged you before, never once have I ever wanted to hug you. Never once have I ever told you I loved you before. Please, I’m telling you now, I’m hugging you now. So don’t go.
Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up
Please let me stay in this dream for longer.
And it felt so extremely nostalgic. I was watching my friend play the PS4 in the lounge, and I would comment on whatever he did. Then we would take turns. My boyfriend would come too, and we would just hang around while someone would play the PS4 (I think you would have gotten along with him).
It reminds me so much of back home, before I had finished high school and you were still here. Remember the times when you’d be sitting on the bed in the living room, playing while chatting with your friend, and I would be there just doing my own thing? I miss that, it was just so comfortable and relaxing.
I miss you.
That I’ve experienced loss before, that I’m not (wasn’t) an only child. My boyfriend knows as he visited my home once, but not anyone else. Not in New Zealand. If anyone asks if I have a sibling, I say I’m an only child.
Truth be told, if I had experienced this way before I had met my high school friends, I probably wouldn’t tell them either. But they knew, because they were there when it happened, and that is probably the only reason why they knew. Else, I would have kept it to myself, as I am doing now too.
The only reason why is because I don’t want to be pitied. I love my friends here in New Zealand and they’re the kindest people I’ve ever met, but I’m still afraid. People have said “if they are good friends, then they will understand” but you can’t stop someone from looking at you with sadness. You can’t stop someone from thinking about how sorry they are to hear about it, no matter how close you are to them. So I don’t tell them.
But it feels like I’m lying to them. I am lying to them.
It feels so wrong to say that I am an only child because I wasn’t. I am always so sad whenever I say I don’t have any siblings because my brother was such a huge part of me, and it feels like I’m sweeping that away when I say I’m an only child.
It gets even harder when all of my friends have siblings, and they wonder what a life without siblings is like, and they ask me. I grit my teeth and lie to them.
Maybe one day I’ll tell them.
To make me dream of you dying again,
deluding me that you’re here when I wake up?
That’s what they said.
But if he did, then why were his eyes open?
Where were those promises you said?
Of joy and glee, fame and wonder,
eyes twinkling with childish naivety,
with a smile on your face,
as the sunset neared.
As you raced after ambition, I shouted after you,
“Don’t go, don’t go.”
Then morning came and you lay on your bed,
Eyes awake but your heart asleep,
and the crimson flowed between your lips,
with shock fallen unto my own lips.
And all I could hear was chaos around me,
but all I could think was, “Don’t go,”
A day passes and I stand in disbelief,
Delayed tears making an appearance,
I stand before you and whisper,
“Don’t go, don’t go.”
So come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back come back come back come back come back come back come back come back come back come back come back.
To make me dream that you’re here when you’re gone?