The day was august 8th, 2017 - 12:45pm
I stare past the white neon lights of the A&E room I have been placed in, all the way at the end of it there is a spot on the wall. It is small and dark, really stands out against the duck egg colour of the wall
The wall is large, the spot sitting in it is so small, so insignificant...felt like looking at my own reflection for a second
A doctor walks in the room...stares at me...I think he said a few words which were meant to be something comforting, there might even have been a soft touch in my hand, followed by
"Im so sorry we have to meet under this circumstances...my name is doctor xx"
I just stare at the spot...somehow is the only thing keeping me focused, only thing I can relate to in this entire situation. The more I look at it, the more I can almost anticipate that at some point the paint will just swallow it, take it away, make it disappear - and hopefully make me disappear along with it
"Our priority is to look after your wellbeing" - was the answer I kept getting to my questions...no one seemed to comprehend I just didn't care much about myself unless they could tell me life was still beating and growing inside of me, until I had hope again
Then it came....the moment the wall finally swallowed up the spot. Took less than a second. An expression in a face...no glimpse of hope in those eyes...only a hint of tears forming up as that sweet nurse just struggled to find the way to articulate her "I'm so sorry" words to me
And so I let them swallow me up, drown myself in them. I refuse to accept the "it is not your fault...we see this every day" speech - I don't...and I never expected it to happen to me. Why should I?
"It was just not meant to be" well when did god send his verdict over? Sorry I missed the memo.
I don't care for those approaching me saying it was probably for the best, better now that it was still early than later. It was not, it would never be - he was mine and I was his...he was much part of me as I was of him and that was just taken away from me without a choice.
I'm hallow and empty inside and I feel like I'm not allowed to grieve the same way as if he had actually made it into this world
I think again and again of that spot in the hospital wall as my own fragility displayed in front of my eyes. I will never be able to control it, I will never be able to stop it...but I can only hope to be able to (again and again) pick up the pieces at some point.