“First year…you think about it every day. You relive it. Doesn’t matter what you do. You can’t get it out of your head. People tell you it’s part of God’s plan. Maybe they’re right, but it doesn’t stop you from wanting to punch them in the face every time they say it. Then time passes, two, three years. Maybe you even start to feel normal. Maybe you start to believe that maybe this thing won’t actually scar you for the rest of your life. But then one day, something reminds you. A song or a… or a smell. And it touches that nerve, and all of a sudden, it’s the day you got that news all over again. ” — Suits

The old lady clutched her precious memory, materialised in an aged photograph. She had finally found her spectacles, having misplaced it again. She sat down on her favourite lazy chair and carefully put on her sight. Despite her fleeting moments of forgetfulness, this memory will never be let slip.

Nostalgia strikes her as the faces came into focus.

Her love had been taken away from her a long time ago, suddenly and brutally. Perhaps that loss would have been easier to face if it was a long drawn-out illness, with enough time to say goodbye and fulfil last wishes. They could have sat together, huddled under a thick blanket on the porch, watched a few sunsets as their pot of tea grew cold. They could have spent time living a future in their imaginations.

But that day was just another day. She was on her way to work when she received the call. The last words she remembered was her love wishing for a cup of coffee in front of an empty pantry. She had laughed and said she’d buy it when she returned home that night. It was such an ordinary day, too lovely for anything bad in the world to possibly exist.

In an instance, her loss was made permanent.

She had felt too weak to react. The ringing in her ears started and never stopped for days after. She stopped living as she started to face her anguish. Her sorrow kept insomnia company as they kick sleep off the bed. She experienced moments of hysteria and complete utter lost whenever anything triggered the multitude of insecurities in her weakened heart.

She died when her love was taken away.

But when it seemed like love and life couldn’t exist again, they returned.

The old lady touched that familiar face as she waited for the familiar surge of saudade to ebb away. With glistening eyes, she laid the photograph down.

Today, she thought to herself, I’ll live for us.