This Isn't You

[Seawhisker]

Please don't cry.
Really, I'm alright.
I want to scream and shout out to you that I'm okay, I'm happy and free from the life I lived. But would you even listen? How can you be so distracted? I know you.
This isn't you.

The distant stares you give everybody around you, the numb movements that let everybody know you're grieving. But for what, exactly.
I'm okay!
I might be gone from your life as a person, but not as a memory. When I see you hurting, I hurt, too. You aren't alone! This pain is weighed between the both of us; I know it's hard, but we have to move on eventually. I'm always in your heart, and you're always in mine.
Isn't that what you used to say?
We would be there for each other.
You promised.

The first time you picked up that wine bottle, I was in shock and confused as I've ever been.
This isn't you.
And suddenly I found it was my nightly ritual to chant inside my head, "Please Nick. No Nick. Don't Nick. Stop Nick."
Every day, tears streaming down my face.
Why can't you just cherish my memory and move on, like a normal person? It's best for us both.
I never knew the first time you passed out on that sofa wasn't your last.
Please Nick.
No Nick.
Don't Nick.
Stop Nick.
I now whisper the words every night, salty tears staining my cheeks.
I think of you every day you feel down and out of it. I didn't mean it, I swear. It wasn't my choice to die, to leave you alone and scared.
I'm alone, I'm scared!
This isn't you!

Maybe some how, some way, my hopes reached you.
Because yesterday night, you bent over your bed and cried,
"Oh, Maya, I'm trying as hard as I can!"
This isn't you.
Please, you aren't alone.