Revive Me

Beneath Our Faults

Karma

This is for those who’ve lost someone without getting the chance to say goodbye; for those who’ve lost the one they love, their best friend, and the person who made them feel whole. This is for you. Those of you who choose to mask the pain by numbing yourself.

Things will get better.

Things will look up.

You can be brought to life.

M
y head fell back as dark spots crept from the corner of my lids before my sight grew blurry. My breathing labored, every exhale taking all of my energy, and I caught a glimpse of bright red before the pain seeped through my veins and everything went black.

This is what I’d wanted.

This is what I’d craved.

This is what I’d planned.

I’d wanted all the pain to fade away.

And it was.

Tessa

L
oss. That one word is so short. One syllable. Four letters. Yet the meaning is massive. One word, one million feelings. We don’t only mourn the loss of the person as we’re grieving
.
We grieve the memories sweeping through and reminding us of the plans that are never going to happen. Pain seizes our body, runs its never-ending course, and takes us over. We become a part of the loss. We become lost. When I lost him, I lost myself.

I was a planner. My parents insisted I had an agenda book with me in the womb, the time and date penciled in for when I was ready to be released into the world. Everything in my life was previously drafted; social events, meals, outfits, everything. And he’d been a fixture in every one.

That was when I had the naïve belief that plans actually worked in my favor. That they didn’t go astray. That was before reality bitch-slapped me in the face. Someone else’s plan ambushed mine, went to war, and mine lost brutally. His plan took the most important person away from me, and I was trying my damnedest to come up with a back-up plan. A Plan B. I was searching for anything that would help me recover from my loss. But my search always came up short. I had nothing.

Every morning, I’d wake up and slowly my recovery had slipped further and further away from me. Nothing worked. My body ached like an essential organ had been ripped away from my flesh. It had survived the wound, operating with its daily functions, but it would always be ruptured. I’d never be the same.