Sunday, July 7, 2013

Riding on a Single Wheel

Day 28. 

Another day went by without as much as a single laughter. Days pass by slowly, at a snail’s pace. I’m trying to fill them with all things, little things, so that I can make it easier for the girls. It’s useless, as everything has changed. Our sunrises are not the same anymore. Every day we stay outside the house for as long as we can and we come back home as late as possible, because falling asleep without hugs or roars of laughter is just too much to bear for us three.
Today we were on our way back home, leaving behind the huge and lazy orange light of the sunset. I watched it in the rear window and had the feeling it simply did not set like it used to… Or maybe it just seemed that way…

The road was lying empty before us and behind us, when two motorbikes  caught up with us out of the blue. My heart throbbed so sudden and so hard you can’t even imagine. For a second, I thought it was Andrei riding that motorbike behind our car. Too short and too sweet an illusion! 


I waited for a little while, hoping to see the biker ride his bike on a single wheel, just like Andrei used to do, only to tease me. In vain. 

It’s hard to get it into my head that there’s no one left to do all that fooling around to cheer us up anymore. There’s no one left to ride his bike on a single wheel, no one left to do everything unlike anyone.
After a while, somewhere along the highway, we lost track of those bikers. Yet, my heart kept trembling with emotion at the illusive thought that it could have been my God on that motorbike. It should have been him. Or maybe I was trembling because of the emptiness that came with the realization. I could not tell exactly what it was… 

I remember myself gazing at him on that Friday, the day of the accident. He rode his bike on one wheel down the street, until he reached our driveway. The girls ran outside to greet him. He was happy and optimistic as always, and Sara hung her arms around his  neck like a baby monkey. 

I watched him for a while, feeling proud and thinking to myself that our Maci was a hell of a guy, the most beloved human amongst us all, as I would often call him. And on top of everything else, he was handsome too. That’s how we, his girls, would see him. Not even for a tiny second did it occur to me that it was the last time I would rejoice in his presence.
Today we startle at the sound of every scooter or motorbike that passes us by. Around the time he used to come back home, we become anxious like sparrows… We wait and listen  closely to every footstep, but our Maci is not coming back…
There’s nothing left, but a turmoil of emotions, the remainings of daily habits that have become unbearable, and lots and lots of love.
My Maci, we love you so dearly…



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