The night the events occurred was a Monday afternoon. On Wednesday, after the judicial procedures of the case, her mother was able to bury her. It was a small event, only family and very close relatives. I found out about the funeral because Leonor made some friends at the office, and they did have contact with her mother. I thought a lot about going to the funeral.
In the end, I went. I didn't care what they would say or what they would find out about our forbidden relationship; nothing mattered to me anymore. I was so immersed in my pain that I wanted to throw myself into the pit with her. However, a small invisible hand on my arm, that of my child, prevented me from doing it, and a promise also: “I will never forgive you if you abandon them.”
In that place, I met her mother. I gave her my greetings, paid her my respects for having raised and educated a woman as loving as Leonor, and offered her any help that she might need. She only told me, “Thank you for loving her so much. You gave her a few months of happiness that are worth a whole life. I don't need anything else. What I need now rests in that coffin, and you can't give it back to me now.” I hugged her tightly, and we cried in unison.
It was raining, and I could notice the whispering of the people around. I really didn't care. I left her a bouquet of red roses the way she liked them on her grave and left.
Many months passed, psychologists and psychiatrists worked with me until I was able to accept the loss. What happened to me is called “silent mourning,” and I was on the verge of suicide. Even now, as I write these lines, tears flow from my eyes.
I returned to family life, dedicating myself 100% to my work and family. I no longer returned to my previous habits, and little by little, I try to overcome the sadness of the loss of My Suicide Girl, the real one, the one I loved, and the one who loved.
END
Addendum:
This is the first time that I've written stories. This one, in particular, is significant to me because I drew from the experiences that a good friend shared with me, experiences he wished to put into writing but hesitated. Many of the events were based on real occurrences, albeit with enough literary embellishment to make it engaging for you. I hope you enjoyed it.