The Forgotten
Prologue
For years I asked myself what I could have changed. What I could have done, maybe, to make things different. It's so easy to take on all the guilt, when you're the one left behind. Who else is there to blame?
I don't feel like what happened is my story to tell, and yet I feel like I was responsible for everything. How does that make sense? In many ways I was an innocent bystander, in others it was my failure to act that caused it all.
They say "love is blind". It's not so much that it's blind, more that you want so badly for everything to be perfect that you cling desperately to the mistaken belief that it is. No one wants to face their demons, no one wants to admit that the life you cherish so much is an invention, that behind all your denial and ignorance there's something lurking, something that you knew was there all along but you're just too scared to face.
It wasn't my ignorance that still makes me have nightmares. It was the fact that my love wasn't enough to save him. Sometimes, I wonder if that was part of what broke him.
I made a change, didn't I? I saved, if only for a little while. Didn't I? Or, if I had just allowed the events to unfold, maybe none of this would have ever happened...Maybe everyone would have gotten their miracle after all.
The past haunts you. The future haunts you. The present...Well, you're just beyond caring by that point. It's only the grief, the guilt, and the all too regular doubts that remind you you're still breathing.
It sounds so cliche and unbelievable, but I learnt that what people view as over dramatic bullshit is all too painfully real. Only it hurts a thousand times harder.
God, you have no idea what I would to do change things. I would trade my life for his. For theirs. Just as long as none of this ever happened. I was right. It isn't worth it. Love doesn't just hurt, it tears you into pieces until there's nothing left. Sometimes, you don't even know what it is - This strange emotion that's invaded your brain and your heart and every inch of you that you still have the strength to feel.
Surely, something this fucked up can't be the same thing as the romance books portray? Surely this thing that I need so badly and at the same time wish would just cease to exist, can't be the same thing that fairy tales are built on?
I suppose it's okay for them, those who weren't left behind. Everything must be pretty perfect, when you can't feel at all. Just nothingness. As much as I long for that feeling, I know I can't have it. Not yet. Because then, what was point of fighting at all?
The lucky ones, the ones that are gone...They are perfectly blissful in their eternal nothingness, never having to worry about the past or whether there will be a future for them that is worth living. As for the rest of us...We carry on, hoping that someday, this bitter legacy might just end after all.
I don't feel like what happened is my story to tell, and yet I feel like I was responsible for everything. How does that make sense? In many ways I was an innocent bystander, in others it was my failure to act that caused it all.
They say "love is blind". It's not so much that it's blind, more that you want so badly for everything to be perfect that you cling desperately to the mistaken belief that it is. No one wants to face their demons, no one wants to admit that the life you cherish so much is an invention, that behind all your denial and ignorance there's something lurking, something that you knew was there all along but you're just too scared to face.
It wasn't my ignorance that still makes me have nightmares. It was the fact that my love wasn't enough to save him. Sometimes, I wonder if that was part of what broke him.
I made a change, didn't I? I saved, if only for a little while. Didn't I? Or, if I had just allowed the events to unfold, maybe none of this would have ever happened...Maybe everyone would have gotten their miracle after all.
The past haunts you. The future haunts you. The present...Well, you're just beyond caring by that point. It's only the grief, the guilt, and the all too regular doubts that remind you you're still breathing.
It sounds so cliche and unbelievable, but I learnt that what people view as over dramatic bullshit is all too painfully real. Only it hurts a thousand times harder.
God, you have no idea what I would to do change things. I would trade my life for his. For theirs. Just as long as none of this ever happened. I was right. It isn't worth it. Love doesn't just hurt, it tears you into pieces until there's nothing left. Sometimes, you don't even know what it is - This strange emotion that's invaded your brain and your heart and every inch of you that you still have the strength to feel.
Surely, something this fucked up can't be the same thing as the romance books portray? Surely this thing that I need so badly and at the same time wish would just cease to exist, can't be the same thing that fairy tales are built on?
I suppose it's okay for them, those who weren't left behind. Everything must be pretty perfect, when you can't feel at all. Just nothingness. As much as I long for that feeling, I know I can't have it. Not yet. Because then, what was point of fighting at all?
The lucky ones, the ones that are gone...They are perfectly blissful in their eternal nothingness, never having to worry about the past or whether there will be a future for them that is worth living. As for the rest of us...We carry on, hoping that someday, this bitter legacy might just end after all.