Rachel called me last night. She said she only wanted to talk. It was nice to hear her voice; it’s so soothing to the ears. It was only a few seconds during the phone conversation that we dove deeply into each other’s thoughts. She said she wanted me to see her. 

“I need to tell you something.”

Her tone when she said this was not one of love and heartfelt emotion. Her voice was so stale. It didn’t come from the heart. 

“What is it you want to tell me?” I asked.

“Henry, Richard and I are having a baby. I’m pregnant.”

At that moment, I felt a stab in my heart. It was so painful to hear her voice now. This stab left a wound that will never be healed. 

I was silent. I couldn’t move or blink. I felt my heart go numb.

Several seconds of silence went by, and in a light voice, she said,

“Henry? Hello?”

I was in utter despair. Soon enough, I hung up the phone, still in a daze. I felt time stop, and a sense of finality crept in my heart.

There was no light anymore, only darkness. I floated into a deep dark hole. Once you’re in that hole, you can never get out. It hit me then and there. Why should I live if living is darker than death? Love is lost and will never be found. I’m stuck on this dark road; there’s no bypass, there’s no detour, there’s no exit; there’s only one destination: death.