Empath’s Curse

I. Empty

The chill of the wind froze everything outside. The snow was dancing around me as it fell, performing a ballet for any who watched. I had been walking for what seemed like hours and every part of my body was numb. Even more numbing than the depths of winter was the emptiness I felt inside. I felt more alone now than I ever had before and just thinking about it threatened to wrench me into a depression deeper than anyone had ever been in before. Everything around me from the bleak white snow to the bare trees just reminded me of how I wished everything was different. If only the events of this day last year had been different.

I had never enjoyed winter growing up because I had had to stay inside. Which made my predicament even harder to tolerate. Sensitive is what I was called all the time because of my uncanny way of being able to sense how others were feeling. The correct term for what I had was not being sensitive; it was called empathy. Inside I was trapped with the feelings of whomever else was in the house, which is why I had always preferred the outdoors; it offered some protection from the emotions of everyone else.

Which is why I was outside now. I couldn’t face my friends, my family, or his. I couldn’t tolerate all of the sorrow that surrounded me like an ocean surrounded a small isolated island when I was around them. Besides, I already felt empty enough without feeling their emptiness as well. We all were mourning his absence and I didn’t need to be overwhelmed with it all before I was ready. But would I ever be ready?

All of this was because of a heart condition; that is what the doctors had said. He was gone because his heart had stopped and no one had been around to help him. If someone had been there then things might have been different.

I felt as empty as the barren wasteland his absence had sent me to. Every day was a struggle and I felt the pity of everyone I encountered; it drowned me in a tidal wave and the only escape I had was to retreat to the park, the place that had always had special meaning to us.

We had often gone to the park to work on our homework while the weather had been nice. It was as if we had been drawn to the park and knew that somehow being there would help us release our problems. Other times we had sat on the swings and talked about anything and everything. Now the park was as bare as everything else around me and I was hoping it could help me now. Here, alone, I could let it all out.

The tears fell freely and though I knew they would freeze in the artic temperatures I didn’t brush them away. It had been a year since he left me and on this day, the anniversary, I felt everything I had felt then all over again. I could still remember the phone call; it had changed everything. My world had crashed and was now just a black hole, an endless void. It was like a nightmare, one I wished I could wake up from.

I could still picture his warm smile and feel his touch on my skin; his voice still echoed in my mind. My every thought was of him and of all the times we had spent together. Never-ending, that was what this torment was. Why hadn’t he told me about his condition? I wanted to be angry at him for not telling me the truth but the anger was drowned by the more dominant emotion, love.

Just a few months before his death I had told him that I loved him. He knew that nothing could ever change that. Our relationship was a strong one and I knew that we had had a bond stronger than most people were ever able to find. It was as if we were destined to be, though now I had to try to grasp the fact that his destiny was different. Why had I fallen for him that hard then? What was the point in all of this? Why make me suffer like this?

I had prayed so long that I would wake up from this nightmare. Every night I would cry myself to sleep thinking that maybe I would see him in the morning and everything I had experienced would be nothing more than a figment of my over-active imagination. Then I would fall asleep and he would invade my dreams. Sometimes I would see him as I remembered him with his perfectly groomed slightly curly black hair, his startling green eyes sparkling as he smiled. He would hold out his arms, beckoning me to join him and things would be completely blissful.

But, more often than not, I dreamt of what he must have looked like after the accident. A few times he simply looked like he had fallen asleep but mostly his body was rigid and his green eyes were dull and lifeless, wide open and staring at me. I had lost count of the number of times I had woken up screaming. It had even been suggested that I go into more therapy. My family had even considered a mental facility for a while. My mind has grasped the reality of his death for a while but my heart has refused to believe that he is gone. Something in me just isn’t ready to wholly accept that he is truly gone forever.

Maybe my having a high susceptibility to emotions has made me want to believe in other things as well. Maybe he is still somewhere out there, possibly even a guardian angel to someone. I’ve always believed in the afterlife, in Heaven, so I can’t imagine anyone as gone; only on another plane of existence.

I walked over to the swings and sat down. The winter wind continued to pick up speed and it chilled me to the core. I looked over to my left to where he always was, swinging beside me. The swing was empty but rocking gently in the wind. Sometimes I swore that he was there; I could feel his presence right beside me.

My gaze fell to the tall maple tree we loved to sit under, the one that was on the side of a hill. It had become our spot shortly after we met. We had sat underneath the thick lush green branches, the ones that now were bare and covered with snow, and talked. Part of me knew that I had to stop lingering on the past but everywhere I turned I saw something that reminded me of him. I looked towards the top of the maple and saw a single white dove sitting on one of the branches.

He had always liked doves. They were symbolic for peace, similar to the peace I wished I could attain. Why did he leave me? I wanted to try and move on, to continue, but without him there really didn’t seem to be a reason to. This wasn’t helping me like it usually did. Letting out a groan of frustration I turned and walked away from the tree and the dove.