How did he die? What was he feeling? What were his last thoughts? Did he try to get my attention in any way while I lay there on the grass, completely oblivious and wrapped up in my own world? What was the last thing he saw before he took his final breath? I thought back to the things we’d talked about, our discussions on life and death, and I wondered whether his very last moments were ones of total anguish, or if perhaps it was possible that they’d been ones of peace. Perhaps I was deluding myself, but I wanted so much to believe that he hadn’t suffered in those last moments. Imagining his torment was too painful.
Jack was dead. I wanted to touch his face, feel the warmth of his body against mine, hear him laugh. He was gone. I closed my eyes and gave myself over to the tears, wishing that I would never have to open those eyes again. Wishing that I could leave this world for good, wishing it wasn’t real, wishing it was all a dream. Jack was dead. With my eyes closed I thought that perhaps if I never opened them again this would all disappear and I would never have to confront this nightmare again. I could cry my way to oblivion. Jack was dead.
Painful thoughts drowned me and I didn’t have the strength or desire to fight against them. I wanted to disappear. Life was a sick joke. It had been so from day one. Why not have the last laugh and end it all? I’d never have to confront this pain again.
I woke from a nightmare. I was cold and needed to pee. I dragged myself out of the van. Oak followed me. I felt so safe with her, and I wondered what I would have been like without her during this last week. It was cold outside. It was dark. I didn’t walk far to relieve myself; I was still limping. Before climbing back into the van, I stopped for a moment. I leaned my body weight against the van and I looked up. A myriad of stars glowed above me. Here I was, a small insignificant human being looking up at these balls of fire that were apparently billions of light years away, and that perhaps no longer even existed. It was all so utterly incomprehensible. This vastness. This ‘existence’ thing.
The night was crisp and the air, though cold, felt fresh on my skin. Oak pressed her silky body against my left leg, supporting her body on mine. She turned her head suddenly as we both heard an owl hooting somewhere not far off. I listened. Frogs were croaking. A soft breeze was whispering through the higher branches of the trees. I looked up and saw their silhouettes sway against the starry sky. In the distance I heard the song of some kind of small bird. The forest was alive, quietly so, and for a brief moment its soothing presence allowed me to forget everything. To forget myself. For a moment, as I stood there, I was simply there, breathing in the presence of the universe, breathing in the presence of a miracle.
I stared up at the sky for a few more minutes, absorbed in its vastness. The music of the forest played in the background as I gazed. My head was empty of thoughts for the first time in days. Oak shifted her body and I realised how cold it was. We got back into the van. I wrapped two blankets around us, cried and we drifted off to sleep.
For the first time since Jack’s disappearance, I don’t know how, but my dreams were peaceful.