Inspired by Benson Boone's In the Stars.

To Seth.

January 12 is a day in my life that I'll never forget. That day, I lost the one person that gave meaning to my life—you.

Seth was a hype man, frequenting clubs while making a name for himself and at the time when we first met, he was already a celebrity MC in the state.

He was your typical playboy and girls swarmed around him after every event. He was tall, dark and handsome—looking like he stepped straight out of every ladies’ wet dream—so I could understand the appeal.

I—on the other hand—was petite, slightly beautiful and I rocked a low cut at the time. Many people considered me a baddie when in reality, I was an introvert, but I loved the parties—the dancing and the loud music.

Seth and I clicked when we first met: a beautiful love story it was when he ran after me at the end of an event and begged me to spare him some minutes of my time. That was a year and ten months ago.

We started dating two months after we met and he was literally my soulmate. At first, I was scared he just wanted to keep me as his dirty secret—the way his fellow celebrities hid their ‘babes’—but Seth wasn't like that.

He always took me to all his events and at the start of the program before he got on stage, he'll look for me in the crowd just to get his ‘good luck kiss’ as he always called it.

I would watch him as he performed, transfixed by his muscular physique, especially the times he would pull off his shirt while on stage to showcase his abs to his female fans.

I remember how I was always jealous and insanely possessive of him, but he liked it. He also liked me standing next to the stage so he could easily spot me. He would throw his shirt at me and smirk, showcasing his cute dimples.

I would frown at him—not liking the way he was showing off ‘my’ abs—until after his performance when he'll make a show of beelining for me and scooping me up in his arms for another kiss.

We were the celebrity couple and so in love with each other.

Until January 12.

You traveled to another state that very day to visit your best friend and I was still up by 11 pm, eagerly waiting for your call as I laid on my bed. My phone rang and I felt giddy when I saw the caller ID.

But instead of “Hey mama” that always preceded our conversations, the words I heard when I answered the call were, “Hello, your number was saved as an emergency contact here. Are you acquainted with the owner of this phone?”

I was confused, trying to figure out if my munchkin (my pet name for you) had been careless enough to lose his phone. I managed to reply in the affirmative, even with the thoughts swirling around my head as I sat up.

“Alright ma'am, where are you right now?” The male voice on the other side of the phone asked.

“I'm at home. What's wrong? Did Seth lose his phone? Or did he get arrested? What exactly is going on?” I stood up and began to pace the length of my room, worried.

“I'm sorry ma'am, but the owner of this phone was involved in a fatal accident…”

I tuned the rest of his sentence out. Fatal accident?

Suddenly, I burst into laughter. Baby, did you really think you could fool me into falling for that prank?

“Okay, fine. You almost got me. You must be George—the best friend, please give the phone back to Seth.” I said in a fit of laughter.

If only it was that easy.

I was sent a picture of your disfigured corpse after a few minutes.

The side of your head was bashed in, leaving a gaping hole just where your taper fade began.

Your beautiful chocolate skin I loved worshipping with my hands and tongue was desecrated with blood.

Those gorgeous black eyes that I loved to stare into were wide open but unseeing.

And your beautiful dimples were gone, no longer be seen in this world anymore.

I turned off my phone and went to bed, believing the picture to be photoshopped. You would call me later in the morning when you realized that I didn't fall for your prank.

That was a foolish thought because your call never came.

That's when I cried. I cried so hard it felt like I had rattled heaven's gates. I prayed like never before, imploring God to return you to me. We had so many things on our bucket list that I couldn't fulfill without you.

Then came the candle light procession they organized for you here, which I refused to attend. I don't care if you think I was wrong for not going but I was angry at everyone for believing you were gone. How could you be dead when I could still feel you?

It's been six months since I last saw you, munchkin. There are days I believe you're on a vacation somewhere and you'll soon come back for me.

There are days I get angry at you for cutting off all communication and leaving me alone in this small town while you travel the world. How can you be so selfish? Didn't we promise never to leave each other?

I no longer go to parties. I hate the dancing, and the loud music gives me headaches. It also reminds me of you and I really can't deal with the tears and pain.

Although I don't cry anymore when I think of you, and maybe that's because I don't think of you anymore. I have found a way to quieten my thoughts and numb my pain.

You won't be proud of my methods, I know. Every time I stick a needle in my veins, I can hear your husky voice saying, "Mama, don't." But I don't care; that's what you get when you leave me alone for so long.

There are times I get so high on the drugs that I don't even remember my own name, but I still whisper your name as if in a prayer.

I lay down to sleep and I feel your arms around me as we cuddle. But then, I wake up in the morning and you're gone. You never stay. Why? So I get high again just to feel you one more time. I promise myself that it'll be the last dose but I now crave the sweet oblivion all the time.

They say there are five stages to grief; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

I'm still juggling between the first four as it is. I don't know how long it'll take me to accept your death, and I don't think I want to. You and I have always lived in our own world, and I'm keeping you alive through memories of you.

I know I'll still see you again. A day is coming when you'll just pop your head in my door and say, “Aw mama, I heard you cried for me. So you really fell for my prank, huh? I brought you souvenirs from my travels.”

And then, I'll storm over to you and bang my fists on your ridiculously toned chest, crying and sniffing while I call you every insulting name I know.

When I'm done, I'll grab you by the neck and kiss you, standing on tiptoes—just like I always did.

Then I'll hold onto you and never, ever let go. I can picture how crazily happy I'll be, one day. Till then, I'll be waiting.

Munchkin, I don't know how to get this letter to you but please, come back to me soon. I miss you like crazy. I can't function without you. I just can't.

Anyway, I'm going to drop this pen now because I need to get high. I'm crying, can you believe that? I can't remember the last time I felt this much pain and it hurts, baby. It hurts so badly.

But one more thing before I go. Mama loves you, Seth. So so much.

From Laura.

***

Finally. 😭😭😭

To be honest, I cried when writing this piece because Seth reminds me of someone.

Anyway, this is pure fiction. Let me know your thoughts on the story in the comments section.

If you enjoyed it, vote and share.

©Lioness.