That daisy on the blue vase by the kitchen counter? You plucked it a week ago at that park you stumbled across at four in the morning because you couldn’t sleep and even the music and chocolate wouldn’t get rid of the pain and agony he had unwillingly caused you. Suddenly all you wanted to do was lie on the dew sprinkled grass by the daisy patch. He bought you daisies on the first date, tucking one behind your hair and kissing your forehead. You plucked a single daisy from the bunch and tucked one behind your ear, without fully realizing what you were doing and almost feeling the ghost of his kiss as you absently touched your forehead on the place where his lips had once done so long ago.
The promise you made to the little boy at the daycare two months ago? When his mom was three hours late picking him up and it was dark outside and you knew she was probably drunk like last time. And the time before that. Sighing, you knelt down and told him, “Don’t worry sweetie. I’ll wait with you until she comes or I’ll take you home, okay? I promise you.” And he looked at you with those trusting, tired eyes and said, “You’ll be a good mommy.” Your slowly mending heart shattered into even smaller fragments as you remembered the time he had said those exact words to you.
That idea that popped into your mind a year ago at eleven in the night when you just got off the phone with him? You decided you wanted to paint the whole house as a surprise for him the next time he came by. You had just finished your pepperoni pizza and your homework for the week and you could envision the whole thing- blue for your room that you shared with him, red for the media room and maybe green for the kitchen? You could picture his delighted expression because he loved colors. He said you were his favorite color.
But that was the day the call came at two in the morning. It woke you up from your restless sleep, something had felt wrong.
Remember the fear and panic that blinded you until the floor swayed and the colors blurred together? His body had been found with a note to you tucked in his jacket. And then you learnt that suicide just doesn’t stop the pain, it passes it on to the people you love most. It didn’t just kill him, it killed you and his little sister, his best friend, his sick dad and his tired mum; everyone who loved him. You sat curled on the couch for six hours, crying until nothingness enveloped you.
That song you discovered yesterday when you were searching for recipes for dinner with your best friend? It reminded of a song you danced with your brother on his tenth birthday and he hugged you tightly like he didn’t ever want to let go and told you with a toothy smile that you were his favorite sister. You replied laughing that you were his only sister anyway. And then a cake recipe came up. Chocolate with mint frosting. It was the one you made for him every time he came home to you. You sat in a daze last night while your best friend chatted about her new internship and how she loved her dance class and how maybe one of the guys there could possibly be interested in her. She noticed you and with a sad smile, took you to your bed, pulling the blanket over you and kissed you on the cheek saying it’d get better, and leaving with a promise to check on you later. You smiled feebly at her and fell asleep to the last “I love you” echoing in your head.