Keeping On Without You

I could have sworn I saw her inhale one last time as nurses pried me away from Addie’s bed, soon to wheel her out to wherever they were going to take her.

All I knew is that I wanted to go with her.

I wanted to ignore every word that she had left me with and come after her. Give up to be with her again, and this time nothing would get in the way.

After sitting in her empty hospital room I thought I should leave. It was like cement stuck me to the chair I was sitting in, sealing me into a block of concrete as it slowly filled my lungs. I wanted nothing more than to go back in time, and relieve every second I had just spent with her again, and again, and again. At this point, it was all I had left. And those memories were quickly fading in just minutes after they had passed.

Nurses told me that the papers and forms would be sent to her aunts, seeing as how her mother was perfectly incapable of doing anything at the moment. I ached when I walked out of Addie’s room, knowing her mother was still in here somewhere, unaware that she had just survived her daughter, even further unaware that her daughter had suffered from cancer in the first place.

I wished tragedy wasn’t so readily available in their family, served up on a heaping platter at exactly the wrong time. That’s how it always seemed to happen, and getting used to it wasn’t even a possibility.

My head was hung low as I walked down to the lobby. Was this where she fell? Where everything started that ruined my life?

Wrong. I ruined my life first. Addie… Addie didn’t ruin anything. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. My head flooded with thoughts and questions as to how the end of Addie’s life had started in this hospital. As I walked across the floor she had stepped on just last night, I wished she never left the house. I wished that she didn’t get angry and leave to go visit her mother. Even if I was unbelievably proud that she got to see her mother before she went, it was the same trip that sealed it. That was the trip that took her.

Forever I would think that maybe if she hadn’t left the house, she would still be here.

I called a cab and waited in a row of semi-soft chairs. All I could think about was that Addie was alive here just yesterday when she visited her mother, alive just this morning up until the last breath she took. Tears were leaking down my cheeks and I could safely bet that I wasn’t the first person to cry in the lobby. Pieces of me were fragmenting away every second that I had to accept she was gone, and I knew they were pieces of me I could never recover.

Loss is something I never dealt well with. But this wasn’t loss. This was having someone ripped away from you at the very worst time, when you need them most. Someone you loved with a heart bigger than the world. And there was nothing I could do. I had to swallow and ignore how swollen my throat had gotten from crying and move on. I had to remember that Addie would always be with me, but it was getting increasingly harder every moment.

The cab had arrived after I spent another twenty minutes in a place I could comfortably compare to hell. I stepped outside into the freezing weather, snow wetting the hem of my jeans and slowly seeping through the tattered canvas shoes I seemed to never be without. My foggy brain had amazingly picked up on the chirping of some sort of bird. My head swiveled around to find it, the noise not quite annoying, but still feeling melancholy. It was a red bird that stuck out when placed upon the bright white snow.

A cardinal.

Oh, this glorious cardinal.

Maybe it was a sign that Addie was alright now. That she was coming back to me in this form of a beautiful red bird. It was bittersweet to think about, firstly that she was gone, but she was okay now. Tears sprung to my eyes again, my face heating up despite the cold as another rush of realization hit me without relent.

The cab driver seemed oblivious to my tears and sputters, for that I was thankful. Any awkward glances from his eyes in the rearview mirror would only make the ride home feel that much longer. And coming home to an empty house that belonged to Addie’s mother was going to make it hard enough. I dreaded stepping foot in that place again. To be welcomed by emptiness and things that didn’t even belong to me, but all meant something to Addie and her mother at some time.

The hardest part was going to be packing her bag again and taking it back home with me. Although I wasn’t so sure I should. Maybe I should just pack it up nice, and leave it in her room. I was at a standstill trying to decide what I should do. Was it better to leave part of her new life here with her old life?

Standing in her room, I was staring at our duffel bags. They were right next to each other, clothes strewn in and out of them in the same manner. The empty feeling of the entire house was more than overwhelming while I tried to keep my head together well enough to decide what I should do. I though that maybe if I just left her bag here it would be nice, so that the part of her who had this new life with me could still exist with her old life, untouched and just remaining here. So I took everything out of her bag, laying it out on the bed while Coco laid on her pillow.

I think Coco knew that something was wrong too.

I folded every article of clothing, making sure to be alarmingly gentle with all her belongings. It felt wrong to touch these, to contaminate everything her perfect hands had packed. But I had to do it either way. Everything fit back into the bag, just like it had when we arrived here. This time though everything felt like ice, the memory surrounding even the clothes a little too painful for me to deal with. It zipped up nicely, and I set it on the floor.

After that, I was close to totaled. The peace that I had managed to hold onto while I packed Addie’s bag had disappeared as soon as I set it on the floor with a soft thud.

Again, it was all sinking in. And it hurt just as much as it had three hours ago when I watched her fade away from me with a few blinks of the eye.

I crumpled onto the bed, nothing more than just bones covered by flesh with a heart that hurt more than anyone could ever imagine. Crying was now comparable to breathing as I didn’t even have to think about the tears that flowed from my eyes endlessly. I spent the day in her old bed, laying there with tears leaking out of my eyes and mourning taking over my soul.

The cat kept me company in the way I thought it never could. It was painful to look at her, those beautiful blue eyes Addie would stare into when she petted Coco. Addie loved this cat for the few weeks she knew her, and now this cat wouldn’t ever see her again. I wondered if Coco would realize what happened when Addie never came back.

I wondered if I would realize what would happen when Addie never came back.

I had to go home eventually, leave this house and city that I didn’t belong in. The worst part would be calling the rest of my family and friends to tell them that the reason I had flown out to the States unexpectedly was first of all because of Addie’s mother. Then while we were there we learned she had cancer. Then later while we were there, Addie left me. I couldn’t even fathom having to relay the story again and again.

Fathoming the fact that she was gone was honestly hard enough.

And now I had to leave this place where her unconscious mother still rested, unaware of what had happened. I had to pick up and go home while Addie would remain somewhere around here for the rest of eternity, and I would still always be so far away. Just as always. Addie had a new life now, and I still didn’t get to be a part of it. Just like last time.

My entire being wished that I didn’t have to move from this spot. I wanted to stay here because right now, going back to my flat to find it cold as ice with half of its happiness missing, was terrifying. I didn’t want to go back there and deal with the fact that I was alone again in it, and I doubted it would ever feel as full as it did when Addie lived with me.

I fell asleep with Coco tucked into me, my hands around her soft fur in some hopes of comfort.