Creative Non-fiction | Aslesha Borah
Sender’s Address:
The Walls of Your Room.
Date: The day you leave.
Receiver’s Address:
The human we have held.
Love,
You are cocooned by our sides, your fingers caressing our paint, and we do wonder how it might feel when you are gone.
We have seen it all. Your midnight anxiety cries, unfinished morning homework hangovers, afternoon period naps, chatty evenings, and late-night gossip.
Your stories are carved within us; have you realized we keep our favorites tattooed in our hearts?
We have seen you fall over, oh, so badly. Your 3 a.m. sobs were harder to ignore than you think. Your bleeding mind, a chaos. But you did survive, love. You got up. You got up so well. In the cold, with stammering lips and shivering toes, you kept up. We rooted for you so hard.
You made it a habit. Your soft turns and sleepy mumbles were what kept us
awake. When you are gone, we will hold onto the tingles that you leave. We might never meet again. Your presence shall be replaced by someone with a kinder heart or a horrific past; we don’t know, yet. But we will be here, protecting them from the devils of the night. We will be here forever, listening to their cries. We will hold them and love them till it’s all okay. We will be here forever. We promise.
Miss us, please?
The Walls.
P. S.: “In your aconite grave, I dig my farewell well too deep”.