I loved her. I did.

As I stroll casually in the garden of my mind. She is here. With me.

The last time I remember seeing her, she lay speechless on the frozen ground; I called out to her, she didn't reply. It was her habit, one that I didn't appreciate. I yelped again. She seemed tired the previous day. So I figured that I should give her the space she needs.


She worked hard and I troubled her, sometimes she'd scream at me, and at other times she'd let me be. But the peace of mind that she had was indomitable. She'd work day in and day out and still not have a single word of complaint. She struggled but never showed a sign of discontent. She never shed a tear. She loved the way I cooked. She'd call me Master-chef and I'd dominate the kitchen. On some days she'd run into the house, screaming with excitement and on other days, bang the door at my face. I always told her she was a princess, the one that would kiss any frog. I told her she was the best, but only at causing trouble. She always laughed at these meaningless jokes. On the days when she was obviously tired, she'd wrap herself using my arms and I never questioned her about her day. I'd just hold her, watching her eyeballs move under her pale eyelids.


I loved her. I did. But I never told her so. I don't know why.

I got up, threw my laptop on the bed, lied down beside her and stared at the ceiling.
"If I lay here, if I just lay here, will you lie with me and just forget the world..." I sang and then continued humming, expecting her to continue a song we both loved. She'd normally, without any hesitation, sing loudly and laugh, but all I heard then was silence.

Perplexed, I turned to face her, and saw her bloodshot eyes piercing into mine. I jumped back. She didn't move an inch. I told her to stop joking, I told her it was enough. She didn't respond and I realized it wasn't me she was staring at. She was staring at nothing, into nothing. I didn't like her dumb ways. She always strangely vanished into some world I didn't know of. But, on that day, I was somehow uncomfortable and decided to break her peace. I grabbed her shoulder with my hand. Her cold seeped right into me. She felt like nothing more than a block of ice. As frozen as the ground was, she lay there unwilling to move. I was traumatized, shook and completely horrified. I could feel my hair stand straight up and goosebumps take over my skin.

I am not sure of what happened next. I panicked, I tried waking her up but I failed.  I could feel not only her cold skin but also my warm tears that started flowing without my consent. I shook her countless times in the hopes of awakening her, I hugged her tighter than ever but realized that I was too late, that she was gone.

I vividly remember the way she looked even in her last bodily presence with me. The only thing death couldn't take away from her was her expression of sheer tranquillity. It disgusts me to think how a part of me expected this to happen sooner or later. It desolates me to think of how she could be so inconsiderate of me. It ravages me to think of how she left me behind to eat at the table alone. But I guess this was the best for her. She chose what was right. She always does.

And today, I am here, walking with her, just like I always did. I love listening to her hum her favourite songs. Today too, she hummed the same way. Her eternal sleep couldn't silence her. Her closed eyes couldn't stop her from seeing. Her sealed lips couldn't halt her smile. She now lives like she always did. Her grace, her perfection, her childlike plays, her tantrums, her puns, her laughs, her mumbles, her frowns, her smell, her soul. They remain embedded perfectly in my head. They remain very much alive and breathe with me.

As we walk, endlessly, in the garden of my mind. She is here. With me.