Chapter 29 #2
I last saw him the afternoon after everything happened.
When we returned that morning, we were exhausted and went straight to bed.
In that difficult moment, I needed him close to me.
We slept through lunch and probably would have slept longer if Danielle hadn’t burst into the room.
That was the last time I truly slept; I think my body was in shock from everything at that point.
Once we were all awake, I asked Theo and Chase to leave so I could talk to Danielle about everything that had happened.
She was unprepared for the heavy news I had to share with her.
It was the first time I had broken down since finding Nora.
The weight of my grief was overwhelming, and I couldn’t hold it back any longer—I needed my best friend.
Danielle broke down with me, and we cried together for hours. Since then, no one has seen me cry. Why should they? It’s not like crying will bring my sister back.
I feel so grateful for my best friend during this difficult time. She has done her best to support me while also respecting my need for space. It was so hard for me to share the news, so she took it upon herself to call Michelle and Daniel.
I was dreading this moment, and hearing Michelle’s cries on the phone was absolutely heartbreaking; it made me feel physically ill.
I kept replaying the words I had promised her, assuring her I would find Nora and that everything would be alright.
It breaks my heart to think about what she’s going through, losing both her son and daughter-in-law in the same year, especially on her son’s birthday, is an unimaginable pain.
These last few weeks, I’ve spent a lot of my time researching death and how the brain works when someone passes. It’s a temporary distraction that has become my addiction. No one knows about the dream I had while death almost claimed me.
Research shows that when someone dies, their brain can replay memories or moments for up to nine minutes. Many survivors who were brought back to life have spoken about out-of-body experiences.
The challenge I face is that I haven’t yet discovered a story that echoes my experience.
It was an encounter so vivid, so intensely real, that it lingers in my mind.
I often find myself lost in thought, pondering whether Nora was indeed waiting for me as if our souls were interconnected in that fleeting moment.
It felt as though I shared a dream with her before she transitioned fully to the other side—a goodbye that was meant to happen.
I can’t shake the feeling of absence from when our hands parted, witnessing her soul gracefully depart to fulfill its destiny, floating gently towards the moon, where I believe she now resides.
I know that if I tried to share this experience with others, they would find it hard to believe, dismissing it entirely.
But in my broken heart, I know the truth of our connection and our last moments together—by the moon.
I’ve done my best to follow her words from our shared dream: “When you feel far from me, look to the moon. I’ll be right there, always.” Her voice lingers in my heart.
Each night, I gaze at the moon, feeling a profound sense of longing, and I cry until every tear is gone.
I call out to her, yearning for a sign that she’s with me.
Despite that, I find no response. It’s a heavy feeling, knowing that I’m reaching out in the darkness and not finding her.
Some nights, I feel tempted to give up, but the moon’s pull demands I keep reaching for the light it offers.
Today marks a significant step for me. I’ve been staring at the two boxes sitting on my bedroom floor for an entire week. Last week, Danielle and Chase went to Michelle and Daniel’s to collect some of Nora’s belongings that Michelle thought I would want.
This was the first time I spoke to Michelle on the phone since the time I found Nora.
I appreciated her effort in boxing up Nora’s items. I told her to keep anything she wished to hold on to from Nora, and I hope she did.
I’ve often hovered my fingers over the boxes, almost ready to open them, but I’ve held back. I can’t postpone this any longer. Danielle insisted on being here when I opened the boxes, but I declined. I need to do this alone.
I’ve been alone for the past few days; Danielle has been staying at Chase’s most nights to give me the space I need. At least when I’m by myself, I don’t have to hide my emotions.
I kick the covers off and stare at the ceiling of my bedroom, trying to run my fingers through my matted hair.
Dread begins to take hold in my mind. Taking a deep breath, I reach for my phone on the nightstand.
It’s 2 p.m. Four notifications flash on my screen: one from Danielle, one from Theo, another from my mom, and a final one from my work friend Vanessa.
I slam my phone down and rub my eyes, deciding I’ll get back to those later.
Lottie nudges my arm, squeezing her way onto my lap. She has been extra clingy lately, sensing my distress. On the nights when I toss and turn, wishing I had Theo’s strong arms wrapped around me, Lottie nestles close, helping to soothe the constant ache in my chest. She’s the best companion.
A hot bath sounds inviting right now, and it would probably be good for my body to soak for a while. I finally force myself out of bed and retrieve a hairbrush from my makeup tote. I brush gently through the tangled mess, wincing each time I encounter a pesky knot.
Looking in the mirror, I see my red and puffy eyelids, a result of crying on and off. Dark circles form under my eyes, revealing my lack of sleep.
I take a moment to examine my figure, noticing that my sweatpants no longer fit snugly at my waist.
I’ve truly let myself go. For all these years, I hid my struggles so well, but now they are visible both on the inside and outside.
I can no longer conceal them. I’ve come face to face with my demons—the same demons that Nora used to protect me from.
I let out a loud sigh of defeat as I head to the bathroom.