Feeling.

How Should I Feel Again?

How can I feel again when I close my eyes and see tears in hers? The distance between us makes me feel helpless, knowing I am so far away and cannot comfort her. How should I feel, knowing she is alone in a dark room where even with the windows open, the sun cannot reach her?

I let time slip by without reaching out, without letting her know how I feel. Maybe she wonders if I’ve forgotten her. They say we make time for the people we love, and I didn’t make time for her. With every moment I spent in front of a screen, she was hurting.

How am I supposed to feel, knowing the person she used to be is gone? Knowing her joy didn't last forever, and that love no longer knows her name? This world is missing something without her smile, and a part of my spirit is stuck with her at rock bottom.

My body is flooding with emotion; I am drowning. With each unanswered phone call, with each text that says "read" without a reply, I sink deeper into the blues of the soft guitar playing in my ears. The sounds pull me further into my thoughts as I try to piece together what went wrong.

Should I search for the cracks in my own mind to find blame? Is that what life is? A series of stories our hearts create to give us reasons to live or to let go? To sit in the dark and replay the glow in the eyes of the people we love, as we send questions toward the walls they have built—the four corners we are not allowed to see.

In my dreams, my hands touch her, and for a moment, this reality feels real. The fabric of her being holds me here. I don’t want to wake up; I want to live in this space as her protector. Here, no one in the world would dare hurt her, for to see her tears would be like looking directly into the sun—not to be blinded, but to have her pain pour into them, rewriting the very code of their DNA.

What have you forgotten, Lataurus? How have you forgotten? What pain have you let lie dormant inside you? Some walls are meant to be touched. Even without a door that my eyes can see, I know there is an opening, a code. My hands are the key, and her walls tremble as I gently slide my touch across them.

I softly whisper, "I miss you." I pray that you hear me.

I know that what is broken inside you are like little jigsaw puzzles, and only time can reveal their secrets. Maybe, one day, my words will find you when your heart is accepting and your mind is ready. Ready to learn how to feel again, to remember what love looks like. These are the questions my heart asks the spirit living inside your body. Do you remember who you are? Who you used to be? Lately, the white in your eyes has been replaced by the yellow residue of tears.

How I miss the old you. Where is the person I used to know? How did this new you trap her?

And so I wonder, how do I feel again? How do I break through this numbness?

To hear you.

I miss you.

I love you.