Surviving for love

This is just a little snip of a story that I’ve had in my head. It is completely unedited and has many mistakes. Also note that when Seth is explaining how people are haunting him (he’s schizophrenic)

“I can't live without you! If you died, so would I.”

Rachel grew silent; she knew what we all know in various degrees of certainty. That we do survive. Even when we feel we cannot and though it may feel like a malignant tumour spreading through our body like wildfire...it is in fact not the case.

In situations where we expect that pain of loss and desolation to kill us where we stand we carry on. Our lungs despite our desires to no longer exist still circulate the oxygen we need to survive. Our hearts coarse with blood.
Some of us never convalesce but we learn to live with the pain of death because we know we could not bring unto others this feeling void of love and hope. Our survival instincts push at the boundaries of what we thought we could afford. And it's then we realize that strength is everlasting. Even when we scream at skies we are certain held a once cherished god and when we fold into a crumpled, hopeless heap on our floors our strength does not shrink. Our strength builds within us. There is love and hate in that layering of resilience because it means we will endure more.
It is what makes us human and it is what makes us survive.

What kills us is the disease that silently spreads through our bodies. One that is undetected and is still denied by many.

It is the disease of the mind. The mind being the most powerful and essential and holding together the core of all we are founded on. The impulses to which our heart obediently pumps and our muscles instinctively move. It is our memories, our personalities and perhaps as close as to what some may call our spirit.
We are built to survive but occasionally we self destruct. Some pertain it to weakness, others to sick desires and few and growing attribute it to a damage and diseased mind.

Rachel believed in the disease and she knew the stigma's and judgements that had been placed like poison around its discussion. For that reason Rachel had told no one but a court mandated psychiatrist five years back about the gnawing and growing need for her own demise. And now that she was telling Seth she began to feel even more guilt and hopelessness.

It was her new addiction. Once the drugs and drink had been set aside. It clung to her very being until she was unsure what was her and what was her illness.
Rachel knew she was dying.
It could not be classified or fit into one category as simple as "depression" it was the complete and total deterioration of her mind.

Her hope had burned and faded. It began hot and fiery in her teens and became reduced to powdered ash. Rachel knew she would die how animals know a storm is coming. Her visceral instincts radiated and obliterated all other feelings.
Hopes and dreams became lost in the war zone of her mind.

Unlike her previous affairs with cancer no one could see the damage. No one praised her for the strength she possessed or gave her flowers and warm wishes. With her blackness she became more and more alone. The only ones to notice were her family and Seth but they dabbled uncertainly around the corners of the abyss called Rachel.
Afraid. Or perhaps in their own attempts of self-preservation they stayed away from the emptiness. And like the animals of a pack they left her behind. In the complexity of humans we do not understand many of our actions that were made from instinct long ago. And so we attribute them to something more. Something less incriminating. Rachel's mother became busy with work and her Father failed to acknowledge his daughters betrayal. Seth grew silent and slept more and ate less. But the rest of the world got on the same. Rachel clung to this notion. She clung to hope that when she died the world would go on the same and so eventually would her family.

Responding to Seth’s claim that he could not survive without her she sighed heavily. "You will survive" Rachel stated bluntly. Seth stared back and his look withered from brave to hopeless as he cast his eyes downwards, "Rach...you can't do this...not to me and especially not to yourself."
"But don't you see Seth, I can't survive like this! I can't continue to erode into nothingness! Can’t you see the pain I’m in? Or the desperation in my soul to finally escape this intolerable suffering?”

Seth lifted his head and bore into Rachel's eyes with ferocity.
"We all suffer Rachel. I live every day of my life listening to the torment and tide of people burrowed into the crevices of my brain. I’m haunted by the people that live in my head. They attack my soul and core, captivating all my thoughts, dreams and promises for the future. I live in turmoil and chaos and yet I still find purpose. I still find hope and most of all I still find love. Love for you and my family and though some days I feel irrevocably tired I still move forward. And the days I move backward I simply acknowledge that life is not a upward journey but a complex and captivating one. And for that I continue to live and strive for more. Everyone struggles Rach, you can't just give up, this is all you've got. One chance."

Rachel lapsed into silence. no one would understand. No one would let her go with peace. Instead of arguing further she simply leaned forward and kissed him with a feverish passion. Pressing herself against his warm body, struggling to feel warmth in her bones. He kissed back hesitantly at first and then with a vengeance. His hands exploring her body and lips pressed against hers. For the moment problems were set aside and lust filled the canvas of life.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

When sickness overtake someone. Hard to stay strong. The story danced on a topic. Should you fight death or accept her. I believe. It is where you are standing. I liked the story. Great conversation and interaction of two people. Thank you for sharing the powerful and worthwhile story.
Coyote

[barleygirl]

I wish I could conjure up some sympathetic feelings for Rachel, but I'm not finding any. She is a self-pitying blob of drama, the kind most don't pay any attention to, when these kinds of people profess to have some life-threatening WHATEVER. I become markedly less sympathetic toward Rachel when she steamrolls right over Seth's very apt & yet understanding response about how we all struggle. I can't stand people like Rachel and that's good writing, becuz it takes vivid honesty to paint a character we have a reaction about (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[The Ink Chapters]

Lol well this is good insight. What are some things I as the writer can do to make her more likeable while still showing that she is suffering extremely?

[barleygirl]

In this story, it feels like everything is about Rachel. This poor sod who cares so much about her just gets kicked in the teeth with a big serving of "f**k-off-who-cares-about-you"? I'm the one dying here. You'll be okay.

Contrast this to the type of person who understands that dying is the easy part & staying alive & missing the fallen is the part that hurts for years. If Rachel had some sympathy for this guy, it would make us like her more. Everyone loves the selfless person who tries to make the other person feel better, despite being up against deadly odds. I don't see Rachel as ever being THAT caring about anyone but herself . . . still, a little bit of caring about others could soften up her self-absorbed character some . . .

[Sir Aphid]

wow. this is beautiful. I could almost cry. This captures the beauty and pain of life and death so perfectly. It's poetic. I feel inspired and a swelling in my heart. Thank you for writing this. :)

[The Ink Chapters]

Thank you so much! This is such a beautiful comment