By Anisha

I remember the day I was told you were dead. 

I’m good at telling when people are lying, so I immediately thought so. There was no way you were dead. You had to be alive; your eyes bright like the sky after a storm, your cheeks flushed with rose red after you took your daily run. You’d laugh at my antics before taking a bite into an apple; the crunchy kind was your favourite. That was what we always did. You had to be alive. You’d never leave me alone, would you? I remember hearing my parents shake their heads, mumbling ‘no’ so many times it didn’t sound like a word anymore. 

 Then I realised. Of course you would throw yourself in front of a car to save someone else. Of course you would. You saved so many lives and I’m hearing that you’re dead and all I can do is stand as the memories of you flit through my mind. I remember feeling the first tears prickling my eyes. I remember falling to the floor in a dishevelled heap, and I definitely remember my grief pouring out in a flood, my sobs echoing throughout the house.

I remember coming back from the cemetery, after laying a wreath of your favourite flowers, roses, on your grave. And as soon as I came home, I threw up. I threw up even though there was nothing in my stomach. The smell of dirt was fresh and nauseous in my nose, and I wanted to cry but there were no tears left. My eyes were bloodshot with dark bags hung underneath them. This was the price of you leaving me. My emotions had been stripped away and all there was left to stay was the cold feeling of numbness and the ghost of your smile flickering across my memories. 

Losing someone isn’t an occasion that only happens once. I feel pangs in my chest, muffled by the numbness, whenever I hear your favourite song or see your favourite colour in the street. I lose you every time I see something that you used to do or wear. I lose you every time I think of your warm hugs and your kind smiles. And when for a moment I feel like everything’s normal again and the sun is shining, I remember you’re gone and the pain makes my heart stop and my throat tighten. Because you were dead, and I wanted to be. 

I remember the day I began to recover. I came out of my bedroom, and for the first time in a long time, I took a shower. My tears came back there. I cried for you, and I cried knowing that you were never coming back, and I cried for the guilt I felt. Because the sun seemed to shine bright even though you weren’t there, and I knew I had to move on. That would’ve been what you wanted. 

Although you’re gone, I can still see glimpses of you everywhere I go. And that’s okay. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore. It doesn’t hurt as much when I smell the sweet scent of roses or when I eat a crunchy apple. Instead, it reminds me of the life you led and the light you helped me find when you were still here. 

I know now that when the sun shines down on me or when the roses bloom, it’s you smiling at me. We would still love each other, regardless of the distance between us. I would cherish the memories you blessed me with, and I know that I will recover. Because that’s what you would’ve wanted me to do. And I’ll keep that promise with me, until the moon meets the sun, and until I finally meet you again, my love. 

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Anisha is a high school student from Sydney, Australia. She enjoys listening to music, watching animated shows, reading manga and fanfiction, and playing the piano and guitar.