Chapter 1 — It took me four years #57014

I can still perfectly remember that day. The sky was blue and there was not a single cloud to disturb that bright sunny day. That year, spring was as hot as summer. I was wearing my black dress, the same that I would wear a few days later if only I had known. I wanted to write you something… I did not find the courage and all I can think of is that maybe, I could have saved you.
I did not sleep that night and neither could I eat. The lack of sleep was visible on my face; being exhausted was the least of my worries. I was on my own automatic pilot. I still cannot believe that I was standing. This excruciating pain literally overwhelmed me, my chest was too small to contain my heavy heart. If I had to describe how I felt that day, I would say that it felt the same as being swallowed by the most violent wave you can dream of. Imagine being crushed by the pressure underneath the deepest sea. I was out of breath.
After four years, my grandmother was finally free of cancer. She left me with a hole I could not fill. I was leaving the memorial service with a heavy heart. Knowing that I would miss her for lots of important events in my life, was hard to accept. She will not be there to visit my first flat, nor be dancing at my wedding, she will not hold my first child. I will still ache even in the most joyful days. I have lost an important part of my life; I have lost the woman who raised me like her own.
It was noon; people were leaving the cemetery silently. It was then that I heard my mom talking behind my back. She told someone not to tell me “that”, at least, not now… When I saw her face, I knew… something serious happened. That is when I first heard a glimpse of what happened to you. I could only catch part of what they were saying, and I could already understand it would not be the only funeral I would attend that week. I was leaving knowing inside me I would come back there soon. I was trapped in a loophole. I did not quite understand who was missing, who will not be there anymore…
My childhood was collapsing in front of me. I lost two essential pieces of myself within two days. The first one was difficult, but I was feeling relieved to know that she would not suffer after all those difficult years. As for the second one, I was not expecting it. It was so sudden, how can someone expect it or be prepared? I was not ready; we were the same age. We were young, full of life, healthy. And it hit me, that I could die too. It could have been me, not you. It was not fair. Because death just happens, and that is what people do, they die, that is the purpose of our birth, and that cannot be cheated. But they should die peacefully of old age, that is how life should be.
At the second service, I saw all those familiar faces. I knew them too well, all my friends from high school were there, you were the only one missing. I lost contact with everyone after leaving school, but no one changed even after all those years. After the ceremony, I talked to one of your colleague in the army, one who was apparently close to you, told me how funny and inspiring you were. You made him change his mind. He wanted to leave the army after his time in Afghanistan. And after meeting you, he found some hope and strength to stay. And that is true, you were the funniest, the craziest and the most inspiring of us all. You were also the loyal one; you were my special one when I needed someone. But I could not protect you from yourself. And that still hurts me.
I saw your family, and I knew too well for being there, that they were also on autopilots themselves. They were mentally absent, like numb that day. Your little brother was a tiny and younger version of you. It made my heart stop for a painstaking minute. He was just like you and also a lot likes me; he did not understand at the time that you could not be with us again. It was the first time I saw your parents; they were crying the loss of their second child, this time their son. I was crying and mourning the loss of one of my best friends. Many years later, I finally understood that I was also grieving the loss of my childhood and carefreeness. Every year, every birthday, I think about you as we shared the same date, I kind of grew older for two.
It took me four years to understand that sometimes we need to let things go gently; it is surely not how we wanted it to end. You cannot grieve forever. Over time, you can turn your tears into smiles. It is what it is and we should remember you for the exceptional human being you were. We should remember only the best. You are gone, and you left with mysteries and questions but also with lots of wonderful memories. It is now time to stop asking for answers we would never have.
I still need to adjust to the idea that I need to live in a world without you.
