Journal 8: A Conversation

"Sarah, what's wrong?"

"Nothing! Why does everyone seem to think that there's something wrong with me lately?"

"I don't know, maybe it has something to do with how you've been shutting everyone out since–"

"Oh don't pull that card again, Jaime."

The couple sits in silence for a moment, each gathering their thoughts.

Jaime starts again, his tone softer this time. "You know that it's normal to be have these feelings, don't you?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"But you have to, Sarah. It's not good for you to keep everything inside."

"And yet, it feels so much better to leave others out of my problems. Which is what I'm trying to do right now. So leave. Me. Alone."

A stony silence descends into the air between the two once more. "Sarah, please listen to me."

"I don't want to. It's too soon."

"It will always feel 'too soon.' I can promise you that. It will never feel better, no matter how much time passes, or how many people try to talk to you about it."

"How do you know that?"

"It's human nature. Death is, and always has been, a subject to be feared, and nothing will change that fact."

Sarah whispers, "But it's not fair."

"I know, honey. I know."

"Why does it hurt this bad? Why won't it stop hurting?"

"You lost someone. We lost someone. That loss can never be replaced, no matter what we do, or whom we talk to, or what happens in the future. All we can do is take this one day at a time and know that we are always together in this, no matter what."

"Then why aren't you taking this so hard? Why is it that I'm showing these feelings but not you?"

"I experience the same feelings every day, but I have to stay strong for us. For you. I'm here to make sure that you are okay, and that means keeping those feelings away from you so that they don't make you feel any worse than you already do."

Sarah allows a brief grin through her tears. "I sense a hint of irony in that statement."

"Yes, you would see something in that. Do you remember those times when you were suspicious of me getting up in the middle of the night every few nights?"

"Oh my God, I'd almost forgotten about that. It was before–it's been a while. You never did tell me what was wrong, though. Were you stressed?"

"Of course I was, at least a little bit. With everything that was coming up here and at work, and of course the planning, it was a lot to deal with all at once."

"Right. That was when things at work weren't going well, either. There was a lot of stress at that time. Maybe that was what happened to . . ."

"No, don't blame the stress. Nothing that happened was anyone's fault. It was just the wrong time, I suppose. Someone in the universe must have felt that way."

"But I can't help but think that there was something that I should have seen, something that I missed that I could have stopped. If there was something, then none of this would have happened, and we would be happy like we've always planned–"

"Sarah, stop thinking like that." Jaime is starting to sound anxious and his words are strained. "Nothing could have helped. Stop looking for something that isn't there. What happened is done, and all we can do is wait it out and see if the timing is better later."

"Okay, of course you're right . . . We can wait and see. Why are you so defensive about this?"

"It's nothing." Jaime smiles. "Forget I said anything. Just promise me that you'll stop worrying, please. I hate it when you seem so upset."

"I promise. Thanks for helping. I know that I've been depressed lately, and I can't think of what I would do if I didn't have you here. I love you."

"I love you, too. Now let's go to bed. You've had a long day."

"Yes, I suppose I have. Promise not to sneak out like before?"

"I promise." Sarah leaves the room and leaves Jaime alone.