Tumultously lost it all on a random afternoon in February, and all of a sudden, I could’t hear my name anywhere in the house. Nobody’s catching a glimpse of me from ajar; the chair went vacant and the newspaper is still delivered but nobody reads it now. I am still collecting the tomatoes at an edge in my plate, but nobody scoops it out in glee. Nobody asks me at what time I am supposed to leave for college, and when I enter the house I miss those eyes impatiently waiting for me to have a conversation, the conversations ranging from politics to philosophy.
I lost my first best friend forever!
From him helping me learn to crawl and walk to me watching him on the funeral pyre, everything changed in a few seconds – and I grew up. But growing up does’t feel same anymore, He had dreams for me mapped out so vividly for every major occasion of my life, from my graduation to the day I would own something meaningful. He had planned what exactly he would say and the gifts he would bring. He wanted to witness everything! and now even when I think of achieving something big- and I know I will- the thought feels incomplete, because what’s the point of reaching the pinnacle if the person who dreamt it with you is no longer standing there to see it?
Grief arrived unannounced, shifting the air in my home and in my heart. What was once a routine now echoes with absence in small ordinary details of my day, his memory lingers like a soft shadow. In loosing him I did’t just loose a companion but a mirror to my own becoming. Maybe growing up isn’t marked with birthday’s and degrees but by the first time you return to a place that no longer feels like home.