Sebastian** You never know the value of a moment**There's something about dressing in a tux.The soft material clings in all the right places because it was made solely for you to move in.The charcoal grey suits me, or so Bethany once said. Memories flood, depicting a life entirely of me adorning such a suit at every avenue I stepped into. My first tux was prom, year eleven. Ten whole years ago, when I was merely a sixteen-year-old boy that goofed around doing kid shit whilst hoping for the best with my grades. I had no plan, no desires, living each day as if it were my last. My mates and I were already half wasted; we'd been drinking before our Hummer limo pick-up, of which we would accompany each other to collect the girls of our friend group in high school.Back then, things were all fun and games.The second time I wore a tux was my very first meeting with the big boys.Luckily for me, I fell out of college into work as I started working for my father's company, and things
SebastianI stand mortified as the funeral director and his assistant place us where they need us whilst their staff bring the casket up and onto our shoulders.I'm right at the front with Geoff, leading the others as we take Bethany up the slope that leads through the church doors.The funeral march has begun, and I can't help but feel that strange and peculiar lump sitting right at the base of my throat that feels almost as if my oesophagus has soda bubbling up from my insides.It's the need to cry, I presume, and it is thick, yet I push it aside, begging myself not to allow the emotion to take hold of me.One foot in front of the other, Seb. Walk your wife down the aisle once more, just as she wished. You can do this...Positive self-talk, isn't that what Bethany called such musings to one's self?The church is full of people, our people.Friends, family, and even colleagues.At the very back, acquaintances that we've met over the years that have chosen to attend Bethany's farewe
Sebastian"My love," Beth's voice brazenly makes me question my sanity as I wash my hands in the basin in our private en-suite.My eyes implore me to gaze up, but I wish I hadn't followed the silent command as my eyes meet hers over my shoulder in the mirror."What the fuck?" I question myself with dismay. My voice is distraught with forbidden emotion and panic. "You've done so well today," she tells me, her eyes shrouded in unhappiness as she steps closer behind me. A strange heat coursed through me as if she were truly my beacon of light and heat once more.I close my eyes, imploring my mind to stop with this charade, but she's still there when my eyes open.She's right beside me now, her beautiful hair flowing as usual, her features as breathtaking as the day my eyes first landed on her."What's happening?" I ask with disbelief, my tone evidently confused and upset. "Unfinished business, I presume," she shrugs, reaching for the mirror before us, her hand print making itself known
SebastianThe days after the funeral are a blur of heavy drinking whilst succumbing to the emotions I had bottled up until that very moment I watched the dirt cover Bethany's casket.I'm sure those images are burned to my retinas just as much as her final night... our last night. "Seb," she had hushed to me as I succumbed to the sleep that begged me to fall under its spell. The days were long and the nights even harder. She was in so much pain that I swore her moaning was a regular part of life by then."Yes, darling. Do you need painkillers or water?" I had asked, sobered that she was cold to the touch, her fingers a pale hue compared to usual pink. Perhaps it should have been then that I picked up that things were deteriorating before my very eyes, but I had been blind to the very things in front of me. "Make love to me?" She asked, her fingers running through my hair as her hand shook with the effort. "You're in too much pain," I had brushed her request off, but she pushed just
Sebastian I wake sometime late into the afternoon, inebriated with the world's worst headache spreading like piss across the marble floor. Christ, why did I drink so much? It's not like I drink that often, but my emotions are thick and constant, and I guess that perhaps I needed an outlet. I'm lost, not that that is any excuse to stoop so low, leaving Melody to her grandparents because I'm far too gone to string a sentence together. Whilst I'm blind like that, I can pretend she isn't gone; I can glaze over the last three weeks of horror... yes, that's why I drank. To block everything out, if only temporarily. If only to be given a reprieve from my new reality. It's time to get up, Seb. Time to be the man you promised her you would be!That's easier said than done, though. I start with a shower, sobering myself below the stream of water that does nothing for me. Probably only rinsing the stench of alcohol from my skin as the toothpaste does my breath. And as I shut off the water
'Grief never ends, but it changes. It's a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love.'Sebastian Tears stain my eyes at Melody's letter, yet I cannot help but turn my attention to the one addressed to myself like an eager Beaver in the moving lake. Yet I know I need to sit down now, moving through to the bedroom to sit on the bed as I rip open my letter eagerly with shaken hands. Dearest Husband,Sebastian.Seb...I'm writing this whilst you sleep with Melody tucked against your chest. The pair of you both open-mouthed and snoring softly.Our daughter takes after you, through and through. She truly is a daddy's little girl. I cannot fathom that once I never dreamed of this life you have given me, that I detested the thought of birthing Melody. You gave my life a sense of hope, a sense of adventure and a sense of need. I don't doubt you will remember the day and the events leading up to the day that changed your l
Denial SebastianI cannot bring myself to leave my room for two more days, keeping myself in the bubble of our room surrounded by our things, by her things.I imagine her in the rocking chair in the corner, staring at me as I lay on her side of the bed, smelling her robe that's quickly losing its scent, our eyes connecting as I talk into the air."I love you, darling," I'd tell her, but she does nothing but stare at me in silence as if she's suddenly mute and unable to communicate.I can see her on the toilet as I shower, something she had no shame in doing each morning, and again, I enlighten her of my love for her because the constant need begs for me to do so.I can even hear her call my name when my eyes are closed, her soft voice surrounding me like a concert, pulling at my insides as I will it to be real. She's very much still in this room, and I fear if I leave for even a moment, perhaps she might disappear, that she'll leave me for good, and I cannot fathom a world without h
Sebastian And so my parents and Beth's parents bid Melody and me farewell, and they packed their things. They sobbed uncontrollably, and then they said their shaky farewells as if it were the last time we would see one another.I say 'they' loosely.Because, in honesty, it was only mine and Beth's mother who cried at leaving us alone here in our rOur fathers couldn't have cared less, showing no sign of emotional turmoil at the thought of the pair of us staying here whilst they left and entered back into the routine of their own lives. To say I was relieved when I finally closed my front door and leaned my back against it would be an understatement.Beth was there, of course, standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me to make eye contact, but I refused, for Melody was sitting on the living room floor playing with some toys, right within earshot of her father, acknowledging this sanity blip. Instead, I glanced only to her feet, willing her to disappear as I held my breath