Bittersweet

 It’s raining. It never stops raining here. Day and night it pours. Maybe it’s the seven day rain, it’s been on for only God knows how long. 

In my mood, the cozy atmosphere of my sitting room which usually made me feel cheery, did nothing for me now

Right from the feature soft, pastel colors like blush pink or lavender, with touches of gold or silver accents for elegance. Comfortable yet stylish furniture such as a plush sofa or chaise lounge adorned with decorative throw pillows complemented by a cozy rug and tasteful artwork on the walls. The  small bookshelf holding a collection of romantic novels, the scented diffuser with its hint of fragrance to the room. The indoor plants with its creation of a serene and inviting atmosphere, all did nothing for me. Rather, it all weighed down on me.

The cold weather matches my mood. Cold, slushy and muddy. My heart is cold. Feels like ice is lodged right in the centre of it and me.

I had cried myself to sleep, the night afore. I didn’t want to spend the day crying again as I already had a man sized headache. My temples were throbbing, my heart and hands were…also trembling.

I found my legs taking me to the bar for a stiff scotch, and then remembered my resolve never to drink ever again. I am a bad drinker, alcoholic drinks no matter how small disorient me and make me behave very badly. The bar was meant for friends and family who cared to drink. 

I found my way slowly back to the couch. I hadn't had a bath for some three days. Not since I heard what happened. I was in shock and maybe a bit of denial.

'Why was life so mean to me?', I wondered. 'Was it my fault i had been born into a crazy, dysfunctional family? Hmmm?'

If I could summon the courage to kill myself, I would. But, I was too lily livered. A strong hatred for any sort of pain kept me from suicide, as I had yet to discover any painless way to leave the world, behind.

I laughed a little at myself. I was still in my pyjamas and hadn't left the house in days, after I had gone to confirm, to see for myself, as I couldn't believe the phone call.

I smelt bad. I knew I smelt really bad. But, I didn't care. I just lay back on the sofa. I had cried and cried but that hadn't changed anything. It was too late to cry when the head is off the shoulders, probably nestling at the feet!

I felt cramps but ignored it. Eventually I fell into an uneasy slumber. I woke up with a start, a few minutes later, scared.  I had dreamt I was being submerged in a river of blood. I was agitated and tried to adjust myself when I felt moisture between my legs. I looked down and saw a patch of thick red dampness soaking its way from my genitals into the sofa. I stood up immediately, horrified!

I rushed down to the bathroom and picked up a towel and a bowl of soapy water and ran back to the sitting room to clean out the sofa. Thankfully it was brown, and not too showy. I went on all fours to clean out the blood and then went back to the bathroom stripping myself of the pyjamas, soaking and washing the pair. Afterwards, I gave myself a scrub. Scrubbing and scrubbing, mindlessly until my skin was almost raw.

After about an hour, I came out and quickly reached for the sanitary pad in my wardrobe and then dressed up in a pair of jeans and a halter top, the items of clothing closest to me in the bedlam my once orderly wardrobe had now become. Nothing was organized about me since the incident, nothing

I tried not to think of Daniel, I tried really hard. I tried not to think of the why and how and I tried not to think of the when.

I tried not to think of what I had called love, intimacy, sisterhood, family

I had no family. I had no one but, myself

To be continued…