Switch

There was morning breath and cold hands. The everyday stumble into the bathroom, trousers pulled onto unwilling skin.

There was staring at a computer screen, breathing, talking, but unable to turn on that switch that cannot be found.
There was no laughter.

A sound outside of wheels screeching on hot gravel, the colleague laughing out cruelly, said "That must have hurt!"

He had no idea.

The fingers froze on the keyboard, unable to move on, hid head in hands, kept breathing, hands cold, body unwilling, can't do this, can't do this, sooner or later you knew I would break down, can't take this anymore.

Shrugged on coat, walked out, no excuses, no sorries, need to be away from here, hid under the covers for hours, phone on silent, parents worried, friend wanted to go for coffee, and then sleep, deep dreamless sleep, exhausted.

Woke up cold, drugged, wanting to struggle out of this coma, this inability to switch on and talk without crying, to smile without dragging the muscles like a torn dress, to move on, standing still at the kitchen sink, stare at the dirty dishes, the empty cup in my hand, and wonder what I am doing.

And somewhere beneath the layers, there is a voice that whispers he is no longer there, he is dead, and no longer there with you. He won't be there next summer, he won't be there next year, you will never hear him laugh again.

You will never see his children.

Ordered food, ate without breathing, stuffing fries into numb mouth, watched whatever was on, wanted to scratch this wound that would not heal, took a walk outside in my PJ's around the neighbourhood, the cold wind went straight through my chest, as if I wasn't there, he wasn't there, he will never be there.

And I stopped in my tracks in the middle of the street, staring at my feet and all I wanted to do was sit on the pavement and just stay there, doing nothing in that nothing moment where years can pass and i will never be over, when will i be over this?

Stood under the shower, turned the heat up, scalded my back as I rested my head against the cool tiles, listened to my breathing,
remembered the 3:26 phonecall when they called to say: "Did you hear Mohab passed away?" so simply, the words rolling off their tongue, so easy to accept. so easy.

Curl up in the bathtub, feel the hot water on my bones, and here they come, the words, the thoughts, the things i never let out, strong, proud little me, here they came, and i couldn't hold them back, on and on and on, and all I could say was
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Mohab. I'm so sorry. I am so sorry."

And who knew that it would be harder to forgive myself even after knowing he'd forgiven me all along, this battle, these words that came running down my cheeks, as I let myself cry as loud as I could, no one could hear me, underneath this rain, I was safe and far away from anyone who cared, I could let it out.

"I am so sorry," I gasped, on and on and on, watched the funeral procession as they walked to his grave, and boys who weren't even his friends buried him because his father couldn't stand and his best friends couldn't look, and i missed it by half an hour, and I am so sorry, Mohab, till the water turned cold, till my bones ached, climbed out, stumbled in, wrapped my body in clothes I couldn't feel, hid underneath the covers, and called him: "Can you come over please?"

And there he saw me, red eyed, red nose, unable to look him in the face, as I curled up on the mattress, he held me in his arms, and said

"It's ok, let it out",

not knowing what to expect, as I cried for three hours straight, telling random memories, how he could never fix his hair on his own, helpless without her, the day he called me to go for coffee and I said I was too tired, his chipped tooth, the way he opened his arms and came dancing towards me, laughing and calling my name, how I walked into my home after I missed his burial and found my father crying.

Somehow the night ended, words exhausted, eyes unable to cry anymore, but this deep sadness that i could not shake remained, even when he touched my cheek and tried to hold me close, I had to pull away, sit up, and breathe in, feeling cold, unwilling, unable to turn that switch on again.