The Onion

"It's like peeling an onion, or rather peeling an onion backwards, so you paste on layer by layer. It has a core, and at this core is nothing. The core is death. Each layer is a layer more of a lie, a barrier or a step edging towards hope. It's amazing how easy it is to fool yourself and those around you by keeping the layers attached.

The outer most layer is a smile. Sometimes a smile so bright and cheery, that people almost believe you are happy, a smile not hung with pain. Some days this smile is there, and it’s hard but it’s there, some days you can smile through the tears but one of your layers is gradually peeling back. Underneath the layer is the first glimpse of sorrow. A tear glittering on the eyelash, a smile quivering at the corners, eyes so sad no smile, no matter how big and bright can take away the sorrow. You can either push back down the layer with all your strength and force so hard a smile so strong or some days the layer is like a wet band aid, no matter how many times you stick it back down it comes right back off. Your mind at this layer wishes so much that it hadn’t happened, it does everything not to focus on the pain, the mind closes off and if you try hard enough it almost never happened. You can imagine that their life is still parallel to yours, that the next time you go home they’ll be there, and this layer is held by a lie, but it’s a lie worth holding.

This layer is perhaps the safest, a road between truth and pain and a road to a lie, but one that lets you live. This layer is more bearable but so easily broken. A song, a word spoken, or the glance of a stranger perhaps capturing him just for that split second and the onion is becoming raw again. As more layers are exposed the smile turns to tears. Tears of pain previously so well held, the mind switches between thinking about him so much that you could cry forever and a place where you know you have to pull yourself together. But it’s hard, once this layer is exposed; it takes all your strength and will power to paste back the layers to where you can smile. A quivering smile, but a smile nonetheless. One layer back towards a lie.

Sometimes the tears feel like they could come forever, the thoughts telling you that you’ll never see him again, that no matter how much you lie to yourself and pretend he is at home waiting for you, that he is still gone. Not gone for now but gone forever. He won’t be there to be 21, and he won’t be there to graduate or get married or celebrate Christmas, he is gone. He won’t smile at you and ask you how it’s going. He won’t be back, Ever. When you let yourself truly realise this pain, it’s unbearable, so unbearable that you try to pull back the layer, to believe your lie again.

The feeling of the truth burns so intense; you could collapse in a ball. It’s when you wish your pain could be shown physically. Then everyone would know just how bad it is. It doesn’t go away as time goes on; you just learn how to stick down the layers.

When something is so raw, the only way to live is to live a lie. With each layer living becomes easier, the lie is hard to live but it’s easier than the pain.

At the core is death. Death is what you want but can’t have. You think that if it was so easy to take him then why can’t you be taken. Taken in your sleep, anything, but just taken. You think the hurt and heartache alone could kill you but I guess not. How many times do you have to say ‘take me’ before you are. ‘You’re not going to give him back so take me’.

This is the layer before death, the layer of hope. Not hope to live and not hope to die, just hope to take away the pain. If I could take away the pain myself I would, but I can’t. The layers can only be held so tight. If you could see this layer, you’d see utter pain. Pain so much, you’d want to not have to live through it. This layer is before death. Gradually, each layer goes back down, and you force a smile. Your eyes glitter with pain but your smile says you're fine. Some days the core pokes its way through all the layers and reminds you it’s there. You’ll reach the core and your pain will be gone. The outside of the onion is constantly sprinkled with the thoughts of the core hidden behind a bright smile."