Endless

You didn’t want to go, but left with no choice; luggage in hand, you head to the station. Too many memories here, memories you’d rather forge-because they were happy ones and only depressed you further to recall. You met the love of your life in this town, married them, had two beautiful children-and now they’re gone. They’re along with your happiness, no one could’ve predicted that drunk driver coming out of nowheres. That night, that night took everything from you, and left you broken and battered and with nothing but memories left.

The drunk driver came out of nowhere so fast and quick, all you recall about that night is the bright headlights. You woke up in a panicked pain at the hospital-only to learn your spouse and kids were all dead. You cried, screamed and yelled that it wasn’t true-only shut down upon returning home alone. You sold everything you owned accept for photos-keep it all was too painful. You sold everything and-having been convinced by your parents, bought a train ticket home.

You know you could’ve gone by plane, but you also knew the train would take longer and you wanted time to think. You use to love the town you were living in-because it was filled with people you cared for: friends, coworker, your kids and love. But now you hate it, you hate looking at and remembering the good times you had together there. How every Saturday your little family would go out for dinner and the kids ALWAYS instead on ice cream afterwards. How every Friday you’d go out drinking with your coworkers and return home to pass out on the couch.

Every Sunday you’d all go to church-your kids would always whine and complain along the way, but be quiet once inside. Now you find yourself questioning your faith and humanity and feeling more broken than you ever did before. It has been six months since that night and your family suggested you come back home-to which you didn’t fight but complied with it. You felt all the life slowly trickle out of you each passing day, and you grew tired of living. You ignore everyone accept the ticket taker and just stare out the window, just watch the land go rolling by.

You ignore each stop the train makes along the way to your own, you wouldn’t care if the train never made it to your station and just kept on chugging on along the tracks. You wouldn’t care if the train just kept going until you ended up being a permanent passenger. You haven’t slept or ate much in the months since everything she learned happened when she woke up. The pain and grief you’re feeling over you loss seems endless to you-like you’ll never be happy again. You feel as though you could drop off the face of the earth and nobody would.

The train soon pulls into your station, and you find you parents waiting at the station as you get off with your bag in hand. They greet you, hug you and apologize-sympathizing with your loss, but you refuse to speak to even them. It’s a long car ride home as they whisper about you and your situation while you’re curled up on the back seat of the car. Nothing could ever replace the family you loved and lost and it didn’t make you feel even the slightest bit better when the drunk driver was arrested. They apologized profusely to you for their stupidity being the cause of your loss, but knowing that they’d have to live with that guilt for the rest of your life still didn’t make you feel any better either.

You lay awake in your old bed, still unable to sleep as the night replays endlessly in your head-like it ALWAYS does when you try to sleep. You tried therapy, but they didn’t help, they actually somehow made it worse. You thought about seeing a hypnotist to make you forget, but haven’t fully decided on it yet. Did you REALLY want to you want to forget them? Forget you children: your pride and joy-your babies, your life.

Did you REALLY want to forget the love of your life?-your reason for living and the three reasons you got up every morning. If you did go through with it, then it would be like you never fell in love, never made your family. But if you did forget, then you’d be able to sleep again, you would be in so much pain anymore. You could be happy again if you did, not lifeless and miserable-all you want is for it to all be a horrible nightmare that you’d wake up from and find everything to be just as it was. If you did it, you wouldn’t regret it cause you wouldn’t recall doing it, but if you didn’t do it-then you may very well forget it.

There was always the easy way out: over dose on some pills, drink yourself to death, lay in the road till you get run over. No, you shouldn't think like that, you’re family would be as sad as you are now as well as disappointment in you. In the turmoil that is your thoughts, you make up your mind about the hypnosis. You decide you’re going to have it done, so that you can sleep and be happy again. You decide this will be good for you, a fresh start with your life to start anew.

Having made your choice, you slip out of the bed and make your way over to your old desk. You pull out the old chair, sit and pull out paper and pen. You decide to put all your feelings down before going through with it. You write down every detail of your feelings, it take you ten pieces of paper-front and back-before having finally gotten then all out. You look up the closest hypnotherapist and make an appointment before hide the written pages away where you’re sure you’d never find them.