Navel's Bath

I was staring into nothingness. I almost felt tearing up, but how can I blame myself? I was alone. I left my thoughts tinkering with the past, braving my way through the darkness. I ought not to feel anything. I felt like crying but I thought better of it.
I contented myself staring across the walls of their memories. I felt a pang of panic. Eventually, I jumped out of my conciousness. I must have passed out.
When I woke up, there was nothing that had changed. I was still by myself. What if I hit the cement badly? No one was there to aide me, or catch me as I fall. Would I be dead as well? I dont care living the mess of this house. All I want was to feel free from this first bout of grief. It wasn't normal anymore. It would never be.
When I was young, I was obsessed of hurting myself. I remembered it to be gratifying even if by trivial things. But not now. Everything had changed, and everything was different. It was never trivial. Because by now, it would be pain without a promise of caress.
When the clock struck midnight, I left the house with the door ajar. I walked along the street like crazy. I wombled sometimes, sometimes I completely fall. I didn't feel much of the pain because of the cold. Then it even started to rain. Slowly, they fell into my face, halting to stop, like a drizzle drop hesistant to fall. Just like me. No one would be calling out my name like my late husband did, or my mom. And when I was soaking wet, no one would be scolded. I laughed hard, at the center of the falling rain. I laughed hard because no will hear me anyway. And then I cried. Slowly, until it burned, until I see their faces almost touching mine.