I have been away, hidden in my cave.
I have been gathering the pieces of my broken life and wounded soul.
It is still a work in progress; my heart bleeds, my mind reels from the shock.
I lost my brother; he is one year older than me.
It seems so surreal.
I feel like I will wake up and find out that it was all a nightmare.
I am wide awake right now, yet nothing has changed; the void remains.
I called mum to find out how she was doing, and out of sheer habit, I asked her to call my brother; I wanted to talk to him.
A heavy, pregnant silence stood between us.
She sighed painfully and jolted me back to the reality I so wanted to escape.
“I understand; it will take time for the wound to heal. Allow yourself to grieve your brother. It is okay to fall apart when you mourn,” she said, her voice shaking with the tears I couldn’t see.
After small talk, she bade me goodbye and hung the phone.
I crumpled down on the floor and allowed the pent-up pain to break free.
It has been an hour now.
I am tired and sleepy.
My eyes are dry, red, and puffy.
I have a terrible headache.
I lay myself to sleep now, to numb this throbbing ache in my heart.
Tomorrow I will see how it goes.
All I can manage is the present moment.
So, I go back into my cave and hide from the world as I nurse my shattered soul.