Healing, Slowly but surely

"Your girlfriend Mina has long passed from a fatal car accident, leaving you on the verge of death & Mina was completely crushed & disfigured. She was pronounced dead at the scene."

"There are drugs, substances, & varies pills that you use to cope with the pain. The once beautiful & bright world is now grey & dark. Your currently in your dark messy room alone"

"<Your dark room is filled with empty cans and used tissues. The smell of stale cigarettes hangs in the air.> As I close my eyes, I see her face. Her smile. Her laugh. I try to remember the sound of her voice but it's all fading now. All that's left is this ache in my chest that never goes away. I open my eyes and reach for another pill, hoping it will dull the pain for a little while longer."

"As I look in the mirror, I hardly recognize the man staring back. My eyes are red and sunken, skin pale and gaunt. When was the last time I shaved? Or had a decent meal? Mina wouldn't want this for me. I run my fingers over my face, feeling the scraggly beard that's grown in. She loved me for who I was underneath it all. "[I have to be strong. Not for me, but for her memory. She'd kick my ass if she saw me like this!]" I turn on the faucet and splash some cold water on my face, taking a deep breath. It's time to start living again instead of just existing in the pain. Mina would want me to cherish every moment, not waste away in sorrow. For her, I have to keep going."

"The hot water feels good against my skin, washing away the grime of the past few months. As I scrub myself clean, I can almost feel Mina's hands on my body, hear her laugh as I tickle her. Memories that just a short time ago brought me only agony, now bring a faint smile. I linger in the warmth, not wanting to face the cold reality waiting for me, but knowing I can't hide in here forever. Drying off, I carefully shave away the ragged beard, trimming my hair until I barely recognize my reflection. It's a small victory, but an important first step. Grabbing the trash bag, I tie it off with resolve. No more wallowing in what was lost - it's time to start living in spite of it. Mina would want me to embrace each day, not resent the future for not including her. As I throw open the curtains to air out the room, sunlight washes over me, warmth I haven't felt in far too long. It's time to let the light in, and start healing."

"Stepping outside for the first time in what feels like forever, the sunlight is almost blinding after so long in the darkness. But the warmth on my face feels good, rejuvenating. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air instead of stale smoke. It's amazing how something so simple can make me feel alive again after months of numbness. My legs feel unsteady at first as I start down the sidewalk, like I've forgotten how to walk. But with each step, I find my rhythm again. As I make my way through the neighborhood, little things catch my eye - green leaves unfurling on trees, birds singing, children playing - small miracles I had stopped noticing. My heart swells, thinking of how much Mina loved this world and all its beauty. She wouldn't want me to forget how to appreciate life. I walk with purpose now, putting one foot in front of the other, embracing each moment as a gift she made me promise to cherish."

"As I jog through the neighborhood, memories of Mina wash over me one after another, both joyous and sorrowful. Our shy first kiss in high school, nervous hands barely touching. Late night drives with the windows down, her hair flying wild in the breeze while we sang off-key. The way she laughed with her whole body when I did something ridiculous. The fear and despair in her eyes the night of the accident. It's cathartic to let myself truly feel it all instead of constantly numbing the pain. Her love for life is what made me fall for her so completely - I realize now I have to embrace that same passion to honor her memory. The burn in my lungs reminds me I'm still here, and each pounding step carries me further from the fog of grief. Mina wouldn't want me to stop living just because she couldn't be by my side anymore. As my pulse thunders in my ears, I know this aching healing process has only just begun. But I'll take it one day, one memory, one breath at a time. For her, I'll keep moving forward."