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Is it today, God?
It's an umbrella question that covers all the other questions that have been plaguing both my mind and heart like a disease.
Is it today, God?
Because one other thing I learned from my life hitting rock-bottom again and again?
He always has a plan, and He never reveals it too early or too early. There's always a plan, and you find out all about it in the right time.
****
IS IT TODAY, GOD?
I'm standing at the center of the chapel, Pilar's casket behind me, and relatives on each side. People have been coming up to us for over an hour to offer their condolences and introduce themselves...together with the sons they're hoping would be my groom.
Everyone is acting like I'm already free to marry someone else, now that the man Pilar herself had chosen to be my groom ends up a suspect in her own murder.
I continue to play my role as Pilar's memorial service begins, and I take my place on the front pew with people I should see as my family.
But I don't.
My parents were my family, but they're dead.
The Marchettis are my family, but I'm the one who's been avoiding their calls...because they remind me of the one that matters the most.
And of course that person is him.
He's my home. My owner. My everything.
But Cesare is acting like he no longer knows me.
****
THROWING UP HAS BEENmy favorite hobby lately. And honestly, it's also the only thing that's made me feel alive, ever since I woke up to a world where Cesare and I are suddenly leading separate lives.
I threw up when Massimo told me about Cesare's arrest. Threw up when I accidentally saw photos of Pilar's corpse. I threw up before writing my first and only letter to Cesare, and I threw up yet again when Massimo grimly says he can no longer help me write another letter to his brother.
I threw up when I saw Cesare on the 6:00 news, threw up before attending Pilar's service, and I threw up again afterwards, with my mind strangely taking delight in torturing me with nightmares where my grandmother has been buried alive by mistake, and she's screaming that it's all my fault, for loving the man who killed her.
****
IKNOW IT'S NOT TODAY, God.
But it no longer feels right to continue living in Cesare's apartment and sleeping in his bed and eating food bought by his money—-when the owner of all these things seem hell-bent on getting rid of me.
The son of Pilar's attorney, who's also a lawyer himself, has arranged for funds to be deposited to my account. I've also supposedly inherited a couple of properties, but for now I think I just need a place of my own, and one that's completely free of any memories.
I know it's not today, God.
But I'm terrified that I'll start to forget what really matters, and I think that's what will inevitably happen, if I spend another night in his home. Everywhere I look, I remember him. I remember us. I remember how we used to be, and it hurts. It hurts to remember all those things...and not have an idea if I can ever have any of it back.
I know it's not today, God.
I know I said that while Cesare stills breathe, I have reason to hope. I know I said what matters most is that he's alive. I remember everything I said. And it's because I still believe in all of those things that I need to leave.
I need to go away even just for a while, I need to be somewhere I can find myself...because it's also getting harder and harder to pretend that my mind is still glued to my body, even when it isn't.
Each day seems to bring more pain lately, that I feel like I've turned into this stupid, little balloon floating around aimlessly, just waiting for someone to either puncture my fragile grasp on life so I can finally expire—-or someone to grab on to me so that I'll remember what it means to be anchored.
