Head back to black

Have you ever loved someone so much that you just can’t live without them? You miss them so much, that a simple task like breathing becomes a struggle.

I have.

She’s gone, left without a word. We drove around, in what appeared to me, to be circles. We were getting nowhere, slow. I was tired, drained.

"Hey, can I be dropped home? I'm not feeling too good." My tummy was queasy, my head spinning. We stopped outside the apartment I share with her. I limped into the foyer, and as usual the elevator was out, I was going to have to trudge the five flights of stairs.

CLICK, CLICK. The lights weren't working either, it was five fucking flights in the dark. My heels felt a hundred pounds, all I was capable of, was one foot forward and up, then the other. I can barely perform this simple task.

This, before has never been a problem. I remember bouncing up these same stairs, hand in hand with her, laughing and pinching each other's butt. These stairs are now so fucking steep, all I want to sit down and sleep.

Sleep, my only escape from this eternal nightmare.

The stairwell is dark, my mind, darker. Where is she? What is she doing? Since the day she vanished, I have no will to carry on. I want to kill myself, maybe shoot myself, drive off a canyon road, or jump in front of a truck, on the highway.

The pain was so intense, there is no end,
and I wanted so badly, for it to end.

The worst part, no one understood my pain, the depth of my despair. Nobody believed, not the boss, not my friends. They listened with feigned interest, but their eyes glazed, their nods, automatic. "Toughen up Teri." they would say, or "You’ll be fine."

The therapist kept saying I was suffering depression "Be patient, you'll get well soon." I know better. It was more than that, I lost her and it was my fault.

I tried,
I smiled and
I nodded back.

I hated them, I hated everybody but most of all, I hated myself.

I unlocked the front door to our apartment, took off my blouse and sat at the dinner table, head in hands. Tears streamed and wouldn't stop. The anguish was unbearable, I cried hard, I cried loud and I cried long, till I had no more tears to spare.

Dry sobbing followed, it felt like the someone is hitting me, beating out my brains, non stop. Blood and tears, they all taste the same. Salty. The only end to this torment is killing myself. My Beretta sits attractively on the table. I can't help myself, I didn't choose to feel this way, but suicide, that can be my choice. I pick up the Beretta, and close my eyes.

I feel it go down my throat. Please don't let me gag. I'd die from embarrassment. I can't even do this right. I do not know if I'm awake or in a perpetual nightmare.

The beat of the rhythm, die, die, die.

I'm going crazy, the pain is so real, the heartache so intense and it can only get worse, the longer she’s missing.

"I'm gonna blow your mind." I hear, as my jaws cramp and the barrel slides further in. This is it, with tears in my eyes, I tried to whisper "I'm so sorry. It is all my fault. I'm so sorry." I feel her arms around me. My tongue traced around the tip. It’s no pre-cum but tastes cold and metallic. My hand tightened around the barrel, my thumb close on the trigger.