Reader. Writer. Romantic.

Life After Death

I saw a picture of me sitting on a lonely table. The only other things on that table was a long single stemmed rose and a diamond ring. There was not much of me left once everything had been said and done. It was a bad crash and there wasn’t much tissue or many organs to recover. Those that were were donated for transplantation, scientific research and medical education. The little that was left of me was cremated and compressed into the diamond and set into the ring that would be my only legacy. I was too young to have gotten married, to have kids or a family. The only family I had was the one I was born into and even that was a little sparse.

I never knew how well liked I was in life and in death I still wondered. People showed up, but it couldn’t help but feel that they had done so out of respect rather than out of genuine care. The only one I knew was genuine was my sister. She looked so sad that I just wanted to hug her, but I knew I couldn’t. I was somewhere that she could never reach me.

As an older sister, I had always felt the need to be there for my little sister, even if I did end up spoiling her. I felt that it was my responsibility to care and protect her from the world and in the first few years of my life I had failed that. From the moment I was cognizant of my actions, I tried to make it up to her. I always deferred to her in an argument and apologized even when she was in the wrong. It was not the best system, but when you lived your life feeling apologetic towards everything that happen, feeling like a debt could never be paid off…sometimes that’s how life turned out.

My biggest thing was I wondered if he’d show up. I barely knew him, but a part of me felt so…connected to him. We talked for less than twelve hours, including the few exchanges over the phone, at my work place and in the car. A part of me had imagined a life with him. Another told me that I was a hopeless romantic and that a fourteen year gap was unacceptable. The realist and the idealist. Those had always been the parts of me. I was a Gemini and though astrology was technically a pseudoscience, I believed some of it. I’ve always maintained a distinction between Chinese and Western astrology. My astronomy professor also made this distinction. He said Western astrology is written in such a way that it is general enough that it could be anyone’s horoscope for the day, week, month or year, which Chinese (or Indian he added) calculated the position of celestial bodies or something weird like that that made it more accurate. Anyways, not the point. My point was that I looked him up…we’re apparently compatible in the Western sense, but I had to have worked at it in the Chinese astrology sense…

I had our whole life planned out, but never vocalized any of it. I just admired him from afar, wishing that “someone” had “accidentally” let slip how I felt and that he reciprocated my feelings.

There is so much regret, but there is also peace. I only live once and to spoil what I had with a childish fantasy wasn’t one of the things I was willing to do. See again, the realist vs. the idealist.

After everything in my life, I wonder if the people I attracted had been attracted to the realist or the idealist.

Prompt: Write a scene at a funeral from the viewpoint of the deceased. Draw your dream wedding dress

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