HER DIARY

A lonely 50 year-old. That's what the world thinks of me. That’s what I think of myself, a lonely 50 year-old.

After the death of my wife, 5 years ago, I started my journey into alcoholism, anxiety and depression. I know, doesn’t sound very positive of me but that’s how it is when you’re fucked up in the head. I broke apart after her death. It was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. In a desperation to reconcile with her, I even attempted suicide.

Luckily, or unluckily, I was saved. I was in the hospital and my sons came to visit me and get me out of the hole that I was in. They couldn’t help me however hard they tried. I always wanted to protect them from the darkness inside my head. They lived far away and had stressful jobs, I didn’t want to be a burden for them.

They in the process of understanding me better or maybe out of sheer desperation to get me better, tried on some new technology. 

I being the technologically-illiterate, didn’t understand what it was about, I had no idea about the specifics of this chip. This chip was surgically inserted in my forehead. It supposedly monitored my emotions, like that’s even possible.

I tried to get them to tell me what it did but what they spoke was too technical for me to understand, they just said it would be my constant companion in times of distress.

Days after getting discharged were great, I spent time with my loving sons and their wives. It was almost therapeutic. They had to leave surely, and they did one day. I felt sad, naturally. I heard a calm voice going in my head, “Is everything okay? You seem sad.”

That was the beginning of my ‘reflections’ as I would like to call it. I reflected on many aspects of my life, including my alcoholism and depression. I was getting better, I could see the change within myself as I now had more control over my feelings than before.

It was going well. One day, while cleaning out my closet when I found a book. It was my wife’s diary. It was her handwriting. One of the kids must have found it and left it there. I was shocked. All this while, I never thought about my wife and that helped me heal better. 

But right now, holding in my hand, an object so close to her I could feel the panic rising as all the emotions flooded in again. I felt as though everything was blurred in front of me. I didn’t have control. 

But then something cleared up my head, and I heard a calm tone,

“Is everything alright?”

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