Long night of sorrow.

I am plagued with guilt; riddled with remorse.

I sit here every night, around midnight or shortly after and look forward at the window where my cat likes to perch and stare outside at the ruthless outside world. I sit here and i see the bar stand that was there and i see the phone that rested on it. Like a broken record my mind replays the events of that overcast night in early April.

I hear the phone ring. I see an apparition of myself answering it. My stomach was turning the second i got that call; I didn't see the number but I knew what i was going to be told.
"She passed away" the nurse at the hospital said to me. I was stunned; i stuttered and stumbled over my words and emotions. "Are you kidding me? This is a joke right? You're kidding." I kept repeating. The nurse told me that she wasn't kidding. I dropped the phone and dropped to the ground never hanging up the phone. I could hear the inaudible babbling of the nurse until she just hung up.

I wept and teared up, but i didn't cry. It wasn't any masculine reason; I just never been one to cry because of a loss. I was no stranger to loss. I've been losing people since i was young. It's not something you can accept but from so much it can leave you a little calloused.

That night in April represented a turning point for me. I was on a path of self-destruction and loss. I spent more time among the creaky bar stools and surrounding myself with people I didn't know, and the ones that I did i couldn't stand. I was in no position to be picky though for I was broke and the drinks were free because of an open tab.

Now here I am. Over a year later and still suffering from a sense of guilt i fear I'll never shake. Exiled myself to an extent and while I do go out to do mundane tasks I am more familiar with people who don't even know my name than i am with my closest friends. This is on my own accord though. I know in time I will feel better and I will be be the person I used to be, but until then i spend my days doing what I enjoy: painting, writing, spending time with nature in my backyard. My trees, garden and Koi pond. Meditating to commune with old friends long gone.

I am plagued with guilt; riddled with remorse. That in itself is a common enough trait shared among people in these situations and I am glad that it is like that. For to long I lost myself; not even knowing if i still had a sense of emotions. It's a hard lesson to learn but if i need to ever take solace in the event; it's that it reminds me that i am not a complete departure from who I was. Maybe i didn't let that part of me die.