The bomb that cleared my head

First, a gleaming light came from the distance, then the trembling of the floor accompanied by a terrifying sound. The glass wall in front of us started to shake heavily. And then the blast came. Another one. The sixth. The glass resisted somehow, but the glass was not something to be preoccupied with at this point. 

My parent's faces were white, tense, their gaze resembled that of a soulless mannequin. It was the sixth remember? At the first one, the looks in their eyes were somewhat different. You could tell they were looking at something they could not understand. By the time of the sixth, they understood all too well, they just didn't accept it yet. 

Staring at death without having the time to accept it, has to be the ultimate disappointment. 

I could feel my wobbly legs barely keeping me up. I would sit down on the chair just behind me but in a strange way I could not. It felt irrelevant enough at the moment. I couldn't gather enough presence of mind to do it. I was paralyzed from the imposing cloud that was forming on the horizon. It was far away but horrifyingly grandiose. 

With all the things I've left undone. With all the things I've never even started. With all the things I've never said, or the ones I did but shouldn't. I was so confused during my life. Always searching for something better, never being satisfied, taking life so seriously all the time. Now strangely everything is so clear to me. If I could just turn the clock back I would do things differently. An epiphany at the most inappropriate time.

While slowly realizing the magnitude of what was going on, I could feel all the hope in my body quickly melting into a cold river of despair, filling up my heart. At that moment I looked at my wife holding both hands in front of her mouth. Petrified. Tears being the only sign of her still being alive. A couple of years ago I've become aware I didn't love her anymore. I had a very different picture in my head of how my wife should be. But now, suddenly she looked so beautiful. All I could feel looking at her was love. Pure unconditional love, that had nothing to do with the way she looked, or behaved. That was all beyond the point. This was the love for a human being that spent a major part of her life with me. The purest form of love I suppose. The most basic kind. It's so ironic that I'm realizing that only now. It took a nuclear war to make me realize it. 

I turned to her. It was my last chance to embrace her, kiss her, tell her I love her. But before I could do that, that light reappeared. For the seventh time. This time the bomb fell much closer. The blast shattered the glass wall and with it all the love I wanted to share but never took the time to. 

Author's Note

English is not my native language so there will probably be some grammar mistakes. This is the first time I ever wrote something and would love some honest opinions. Thank you.