Hamartia

There is always a hamartia in this world nothing here is ever good enough for us, and it goes the same for me. My harmatia happened in the most no, to the most unforgettable person.
The Christmas day of my sixteenth year I sat across her as she looked back at me, it was just the two of us looking straight at each other, it was empty. The old walls hold nothing but emptiness and longing. It was then I broke the staring and leaned back against my chair, she isn’t going to be here anymore not this time around.
Her smiles that carry rays of hope wherever we go, her voice ever so gentle as she talks, her light touch as she wants a hug. It was never going to happen again, she was never coming back not this year nor the next. It was the first time again as I stare into her eyes, looking intently at her brown orbs that were corrupted by white; Cataract I told myself. She would only know me from my voice and my touch, she would smile as if there was no tomorrow as I tell her stories of how my day went even though she couldn’t see even though she barely hear.
Not this time around, not this season around. Looking at her made me feel queasy and broken. Everything is different now. She’s not going to be with us again. I stared deeply at Nana in front of me the smile she’s wearing was a Morning Glory that blooms as it rises, it was the smile that made me remind myself everytime she would be there, waiting for me to sing or tell her a story but she’s not.
Time was not a good friend to me, as I took my last glance at the picture in front of me and the body lying next to it everything is different now. It’s not going to revert back to the way it used to, as they move her away from me as the oven was lit up as her frail body came to contact with the cool steel bed she was smiling, even at that moment she went away happy. I didn’t cry not like them I only held a picture to my chest the one I stare into, I wanted to be happy as she did the same.
There is always a hamartia in this world for nothing here is ever good enough for us and it goes the same for me. As I stare into her eyes once more, as I place the frame down to where it should belong I come undone and close my eyes. This is a hamartia I can never live with but:
“There will come a time that all of us are dead and there will come a time no one will remember us or any of this, Oblivion is inevitable.” - John Green, The Fault in Our Stars.