Wishful Thinking

October 16, 2011
Here, my mind reaches out to her. So does my hand, floating in the infinite galaxy. So do my tears, breaking away from my face as if to follow him from here to wherever he went. I feel the heartbeat of the planet beneath my back, so much like her beating heart beneath my hand. Her heart that sang its own special tune, a tune that was beat down and forced to obey regulation. A tune that refused to sing one more sweet note.
Here, I lie where I used to lie with her. I tread the same path that she and I walked on, her chubby hands carrying a plastic ball, her eyes crinkling with excitement at this new world. Her mouth would open, imitating the clear song of a robin making his way to his nest, singing cheerfully, not caring who heard.
Here, I sob to myself. The tears should stretch in front of us. I will never see her, in her yellow plastic raincoat, walking to school on her first day. Her cubby in the kindergarten classroom will be empty. Our refrigerator will never have paint and macaroni creations hanging from it. There will never be a neat row of school pictures hanging from our living room wall. I will never watch her go out on her first date, leave for college, and start a job. I will never hold her own child in my arms. I will never hear her sing again, her voice a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. I will never brush her hair again, the individual strands clinging to the hairbrush. I will never see her fingers close around my own, never see her tuck her knees to her chest and snuggle under the blankets.
I will never again hear her say, “I love you.”
Here, now, with her gone, with a home to get back to, a job to take care of, I cannot let myself dwell on what might have been.
I can’t afford wishful thinking.

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

mmb77 said...
Oct. 26, 2011 at 6:30 pm
Oh, I LOVE this. It's short and cute. Good Job!!!
Erecura said...
Oct. 24, 2011 at 8:29 pm
Typo: him and he should be her and she.
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