Woke up really late this morning, just in time to freshen up in fast-forward and rush out the door. Forgot to bring my phone with me to work. The phone with his picture on it as wall-paper. I get to see it every time I want to know the time or use the phone for any other reason – whatsapp, e-mail, diary, sms, calls, photos. Every few minutes I can see his gentle smiling face.
I realised the phone was at home only after I reached my place of work. After a moment of panic, I felt free and light. I could look at people while listening to what they were saying. I could smile at people while walking down the corridor. I could enjoy the lovely view of the Thames from the window of the coffee room during my break. My scrubs didn’t tilt to the side with the pocket holding the phone.
I could be present a 100% to everything and everyone around me.
However, after about 7 hours I started to miss it, not for any other reason but the picture on it. Although his face is always there in front of my eyes, I missed seeing it. Every time I see it, it evokes great love in me but also a deep sense of loss. His name is on my list of ‘favourites’ and always will be.
At any given moment, it’s nearly impossible for me to know exactly what is going on in my mind. Of all the sounds it makes, some are louder than others, some confusing, some conflicting but all a bit distant and vague. If I can’t even fully understand my own mind, how can I blame myself for not knowing what’s going on in someone else’s? Maybe they don’t understand it themselves. Maybe it is unfathomable.