What does it even feel like to lose everything?
To have nothing then have it all only to lose it in the end.
I don’t know.. or is it that I know but I’m scared..no absolutely terrified to acknowledged the fact that she’s gone.
It’s funny.. I use to think that she was a butterfly; my butterfly. Everything about her was a splash of art; strange, distinct and completely mesmerising. She wasn’t pretty or breathtaking to anyone else, but to me, she was nothing short of celestial.
My butterfly... or is it more appropriate to describe her as a firefly. Suddenly here and then gone the next. She brought colours to my otherwise grey world. She was the splash of paint while I was the blank canvas. If I was to tell her that, I’m sure she’d say ‘that I have it the wrong way round’ and ’that by all definition of the word I was her ‘sun’.
At that, I would laugh and place a chaste kiss upon her adorable nose and I would whisper in her ears.
‘How can I be the sun? Your hair glows brighter than anything else this world has to offer.’
Maybe then she would roll her eyes at me and give me that smile that I love. Give me that laugh that resembled wind chimes; ever so clear and distinct.
And I would stare at her in awe as her laughter washes over me like a wave and then I would gasped in wonder of how it rings and reverberates through me and fills me with warmth that leaves me all giddy and tingly all over.
How I wished I could tell her she was all wrong. That I wasn’t the sun! She was! But then again why does it matter, why does anything matter. She was the fire and I was the moth. Seeking the warmth of the flame even if there’s a chance of getting burned. And I did get burned; smouldering still. Slowly losing parts of myself to the flash fire that was Eleanor.
Through out all this, I learned that there is nothing, not even words that can describe what it feels like to lose everything. There isn’t anything.. just the constant numbness and emptiness. And the horrible fact that I’m here, stuck with every memory of her..