Why I Can't Breathe Anymore
Idealism is the way she says she loves you before she leaves for work every morning. It is the $10,000 check written out to your name because you won the lottery by guessing the numbers that match up with your birthday. Idealism is the person you dream to be. It’s the 6’4” skinny tan figure staring at you in the mirror. It’s the mind-blowing way your dreams come true, day after day. It’s getting into Harvard after working hard for years. Idealism is the high standards you’ve set for yourself. It’s the way he’s down on his knee holding up a ring and all you’ve ever wanted is in this moment. It’s the children you raise together, the way your daughter looks just like your wife. It’s the midnight movies, and the warmth of the cuddling with the woman you love.
Realism is the way you can’t get out of bed because your wife died in a car accident 3 months ago. Pick yourself up, man, you’ve got to work to feed your children now. Life is not a lottery ticket. Realism is reality punching you in the face for not becoming the person your parents expected you to be. It’s the overwhelming guilt and disappointment that takes you aback every time you look in the mirror because your hair is turning grey, and you’ve gained weight by compensating with food. Your dreams never came true, the bags under your eyes scream “I never sleep” anyway. That community college diploma never did you any good, either. It’s the tears raining down your cheeks every time you watch your proposal video when she was smiling and lively. That god damn video never ceases to break your heart all over again. You didn’t realize the severity of “accidents can happen” back then. It’s the way you can’t even look your daughter in the eye and the way you cringe every time she speaks because all you can see and hear is HER. HER HER HER.
It’s the way you grip your pillow in your sleep because you can’t hear her breathing next to you anymore. You can’t breathe and you can’t sleep, you can’t hear and you can’t see. Realism is a synonym for you choking on the future you’ll never spend together.
About the author:
Sinea Wreyford is a senior at Highland Park High School in Texas. She is an aspiring writer, and hopes to live out her future as a high school English teacher while trying to get her works published on the side.