The Day My World Stood Still

For some reason, I was awake early, at around seven or eight in the morning. This was unusual for a Sunday, as it is a day of rest. Like any other millennial, the first thing I did was check my phone.

To my surprise, I had received a call from both my partner’s (whom we will refer to as M) father and sister. The obvious thing to do was to call them back. I wish the older me could have advised the younger me to just turn off my phone.

Nothing in this world could have prepared me for news I was about to receive.

“He’s dead.”

They said, in an exhausted and drained voice.

It was as if my mind stopped. I was numb. I had to dig into my previous experiences and learning history to make up for the lack of words coming out of my mouth. I could only reply with,

“I’ll be seeing you soon then.”

I think back on this, and think to myself how I could’ve responded so stupidly. To be fair, I didn’t what to say. I had never experienced this. I never planned to experience this. What is going on?

Immediately after hanging up the phone, I walked into the living room, dropped to the floor and cried out

“He’s dead! He’s dead!”

My parents were in disbelief and they were left confused. They didn’t know who I was talking about or what I was talking about. I had to gather every bit of strength I had left in me to say it aloud.

“M’s dead.”

As I did, I could see that their hearts stopped as well.


As an Aquarius, and an introvert, I refuse to wear my heart on my sleeve. Every feeling, every heartache, and every ounce of strength I had needed to be channeled into something else.

I saw myself as “wifey”. I knew all his passwords, I knew every streaming service or bill he had. The only logical thing I could see myself doing was to take action and cancel what I could before it was too late. I knew his plans for the day, I knew his boss’ name, I knew his schedule. I had to make sure his affairs were taken care of. Hell, I was the only one who knew his laptop and iPhone password. I felt responsible for making sure everything was okay. For him, for his parents.

After this, I honestly didn’t know what to do.

Unfortunately, I’m a very logical and rational person (for the most part). I accepted (not processed) his death immediately. How could I fight that fact? How could I pretend everything was alright when my world was falling apart around me?

I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I tried to distract myself by creating photo albums and gathering every picture of M that I could find on my phone or laptop. I needed to find anyway to preserve my memory of him immediately. 

They day went on, as time does. We were still left in the dark. I didn’t understand anything. Nothing made sense. The day came to the end and the night followed. There was nothing more that I wanted than to just sleep. I wanted to hide from the pain. My anxiety, was at an all time high. Something I had never quite felt before. As I tried to sleep, my heart rate kept me wide awake.

As I laid on the couch, pretending to be asleep (even though I was very much awake), I could hear my parents talking. They thought I was asleep and that I wouldn’t hear a thing. They posed a question that we would be asking for the rest of our lives,

“How could this happen?”

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