To My Dead Lover,
I’m not even sure if I should be writing this, we never did get a chance to truly love each other. But surely I get to love you, pieces of you, more and more through the stories Eleanor and Alicia tell, and even then, I feel farther away from you than ever.
I cry all September long, even on my birthday. And it feels as though my heart continues to be punctured by your knife; the knife hardened by my grief and sorrow, the knife that had punctured my heart the day that you died.
I try to stay strong for you sister, Alicia, yet every time I look into her warm brown eyes, I am reminded of you and your copper against sage eyes that were beautiful galaxies, yet to be discovered or named, nor will they ever be.
I aspire to be next to you in the heavens, holding your hand and staring out at the stars. But I am stuck in this earthly mud, consoling your sister, my feelings locked away. I am stuck adrift in the thick of darkness, trying desperately to blow away the smoke that has engulfed me, but instead of clearing away the darkness, it floats heavy in my lungs – paining me with every breath.
Life had beaten me down before I met you, and it continues to beat me down after you left me. I am black and blue with pain and suffering, and nothing can stop more shadows from appearing on my skin every morning. Memories yellow the bruises but pain my mind. The memories bring back the tears attempting the fill the void you created in my heart. It initiates the vicious cycle of agony that torturously wracks my brain as the days stumble on.
Grief is my merciless master whom dictates my every movement but hides behind the mask that is my smile, who attempts to stay strong for those around me.
I yearn to grow around the absence you have caused in my heart, grow from a bereaved widow to a strong and powerful women. I long to be able to stand tall and confident without tears stinging the whites of my eyes. My master ebbs and flows, but the pain remains as a constant reminder of you. A constant reminder of how God harrowingly stole your life, and therefore my heart.
Each night sadness envelops me like a blanket whilst my brain beats on like a monster. It afflicts my senses as I desperately try to hold on to the memories of our short time together; like that time in Central Park, where we sat by the duck pond surrounded by the lush trees while you whispered sweet songs in my ear. The rain races down my window while tears race down my face, while all I wish is for the rain to wash away the pain.
The anniversary of your death is in a few days. And all I can think about is you and your copper against sage eyes staring down at me from the heavens. I wish you could see the memorial that stands at the base of the tower which you perished in. You would have loved to see it. You would have begged me to come to the memorial site and place thousands of flowers on the names of those who died, but instead, I trudge to the memorial clutching Alicia’s hand thinking about how terrible it is to have loved someone who has been touched by death.
On September 11, 2001, two airplanes flew into the World Trade Centre killing 2,977 people and inflicting innumerable amounts of pain on the families of those who perished, all while instilling fear upon the rest of the world. This letter stands as my personal tribute to those who were impacted by this agonizing attack on innocent people. I urge you all to remember all that you have and to take a moment to remember and honor those who lost their lives on
September 11, 2001.