An old note

A Story by bianca

Write when you want to express your feelings. It's the best way for you.

I have learned that pain is not only shed tears but also the moment when the soul dries like a flower in a vase. I know this feeling, my heart understanding every time that it will never really leave me. There will always be a small part that will suffocate you from time to time, especially when you don't expect it. It always takes you by surprise, and the moment it attacks you it takes away any trace of happiness, leaving you naked inside. Many of us are not prepared to fight against pain, or simply pretend to have forgotten everything, putting on our face a mask to hide the emotions that grind our bone marrow. I did both, but they didn't help me at all.

Every time I did that, I felt empty and exposed so much in front of the others. I didn't know how long I was going to last until they would saw what was really inside me. So I did what hurt me the most, healing myself through this process that crushed even my thinnest connection to humanity.

I started writing again, and every verse that appeared on the phone screen suffocated me.

It was a feeling I can't describe, and the moment I started speaking English again made the situation much more pronounced. I wanted to heal myself, the solution being to hurt myself again and also heal myself through it. It was hell for me and I wouldn't want anyone to go through with it.

When we find ourselves in the moments when the pain gathers us in a jewelry box, we feel that everything we had has evaporated like dust. Tears trickle down on our faces which catch reddish tents, and our hearts snap, our pulse rising with every breath until the last drop of tear evaporates. There are indeed people who suffer in silence, leaving their souls to burn until they remain hot coals, and then show themselves in front of people as nothing had happened. As if the course of our lives had not been intersected by the stinging pain.

We often perceive it as something transient, even if at some point it disappears without a trace, and the moment we do not expect it returns like a storm which shatters everything in its path, leaving behind the remains that represented the traces of life. I've had a lot of these, but I've fight with them on my own, hoping that in the future the pain will be replaced by a drug that will make me stop feeling my skin tearing off my bone.

© 2021 bianca

Author's Note

Don't judge me for this.

My Review

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Reviews

Carlos Lorenzo Estrada

This is a very well written and emotional piece of writing. Anyone reading this story can't help but feel empathy and also relate to the words. Thank you for sharing your art.

Posted 3 Years Ago

3 Years Ago

Thank you so much, Carlos! Your words make me see that you felt every emotion I put in my story.

Shelley Warner

I like how you combined prose with your explanation that writing helped you through the grief process. "When the pain gathers in a jewelry box", that was so descriptive. I too have used writing to work through grief and to describe happiness that later came.