Lila

Trigger warning: mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation

Lila. I still whisper your name when I wake up, hoping to find you next to me. I still dream about you like you’re here, and it’s so believable that when I wake up I can’t breathe because you were right here, but then you’re gone all over again. I still think about you every day. You’re always in my thoughts. It’s the only way for me to keep you alive. I can’t believe it’s been a year.

The world hasn’t changed much since you left. The sky is still dark, the earth still scorched, and society still in shambles. The violence has gotten worse, though. Surviving has become quite difficult. I’ve moved into an abandoned warehouse with a group of about fifty others. We keep each other safe. I wanted to stay in the home we made together, but the Raiders burnt it down when they came through. The only thing I was able to save was the heart-shaped locket I’d given to you after Alex was born because I was wearing it. I never take it off. It’s the only photo I have left of you and him. I remember when I had it made, the jeweler asked if I wanted to put in a photo of Alex and I instead of Alex and you. He said most people put in photos of themselves for their significant others. I almost changed the photo to one with me. I’m glad I didn’t.

Life without you has been hard. Very hard. I think about why you did it all the time, and I understand. This world has become a nightmare, a place no one should have to live in, so I understand. But, god, I miss you so much, Lila. When they took Alex, I had the same thought as you did. I honestly don’t know why I’m even still here. I wanted to go with you. I don’t know what I seek to gain from staying. Maybe answers as to how we got here and why all these terrible things have happened. Maybe just to torture myself for not being able to protect you two. You were, and always will be the two most important parts of my existence. I don’t know what comes after but I pray every day that I’m lucky enough to find you both again.

A month after you left is when the Raiders came. They came in the dark at night, not that there’s much difference between day and night anymore. It’s always dark now. I heard the dogs shouting and I knew right away. For a moment, I was happy you weren’t there. The things they would’ve done to you… I was just glad you weren’t there. They cut my ear off. That’s the price for not giving them a woman. An ear or an eye. In that moment, I wished they would’ve just ended it all. I felt so guilty for ever being happy you were gone. I felt guilty for everything that had happened that caused you to leave. I couldn’t protect you. I failed. I deserved what they did to me.

After they burnt the house down, they bound my wrists and ankles and put me on a truck with others from our village. They drove for a while, then dumped us all off by an old gas station. I laid there for over a day, waiting for death to find me, hoping it would take me to you. A young boy found me instead. He was about 6 years old, Alex’s age. When he found me, he untied me and brought me to the warehouse. The people there took care of me and nursed me back to health. I didn’t speak for a month. The first word I said to them was your name. Lila. I always thought it was so beautiful. It fit you well.

How do I live without you, Lila? What do I do? Where do I go? What’s the point? I have so many questions I ask myself in your absence and so many more that I wish I could ask you. Sometimes I forget, mostly in my dreams, but sometimes it happens when I’m doing the most mundane of things. Last week I was hanging laundry to dry and thought of how when Alex was a baby we used to put him in the basket of clothes fresh out of the dryer. He loved it. He’d giggle and burrow himself into the warmth of the pile. I went to ask you if you remembered, too. I turned to face you. It took me a moment to realize you weren’t there. I looked for you, but all I saw was the back wall of the warehouse, blackened, crumbling, and decayed.

I go on. I don’t know why, but I continue to go on, day after day. Sometimes my grief overcomes me and I load a bullet into my gun. I sit there and stare at it, feel its coldness and finality in my hands. I wonder what you felt. What must you have thought in that last moment? You were alone. I think about that a lot, how you were alone. Was that what you wanted? I think I’d want to be alone, too. If that’s what you wanted, I can understand.

Lila, I hope you knew how much I loved you. I hope I showed that to you. You and Alex were all I had and all I needed. I loved you both immensely. I still do. Then you were both gone, and now it’s just me. I always thought if I lost you both, then what would be the point of going on. I don’t know. I don’t know what the point of going on is. I keep hoping I’ll find something that will let me know it was worth it. So far I haven’t.

It’s been a year today since you left. I’m writing this down because I miss you and want to feel close to you. The world around me is falling in on itself and telling you these words is the only thing that makes me feel anymore. I’m afraid if I ever stopped thinking about you and talking to you that I’d never feel again, and I’d just be a walking body with an empty heart. Even when you’re gone you still have the ability to make me feel grounded and help me make sense of things. I hope wherever you are that you have found what you need, and you’ve found happiness. You deserve it, Lila. This world made you suffer when it shouldn’t have. I love you so much. I always have and I’ll never stop. I hope I’ll see you again, one day. Until then, I’ll go on and I’ll keep you in my heart, always and forever.