Dear Lisa,

I feel very lonely these days. I still haven’t been able to come to terms with the fact that Monica is no longer in this world. Even though it has been several weeks since she passed away, I am still grieving, andstill discovering grief and its different dimensions. I don’t want to live in it. It hurts too much, and I don’t think I can cope with it. Have I told you that sometimes I hear Monica call my name? It’s amazing how real the voice sounds to me. I used to look around every time I hear it, but I don’t anymore. I just sit there and listen to it, until the voice gets muffled. I know it sounds odd, but I think Monica wants to tell me something.

You know they always say that with time people learn to deal with their grief. If that’s the case, I think my dealing-with-grief mechanism froze the moment I saw Monica’s dead body, not allowing me to move on. But I don’t want to move on. In mourning her loss, I feel close to her, andI feel her presence. Until her passing away, I didn’t know the power and depths of grief. Did I tell you how Monica died?

I was supposed to meet Monica on the day she died. She had called me to meet her at a cafe in Lake Park. She was crying over the phone, and even though I asked her several times what the matter was, she told me that she would tell me all about it in person. I thought it had something to do with James, her fiancé. They had gotten engaged a few days ago. I had heard from several people that James wasn’t a very a good person and that he used to cheat on his previous girlfriends. So, I naturally wasn’t very happy when Monica decided to take their relationship to the next stage.

Well, when I reached Lake Park, I noticed a crowd of people gathering near the lake’s pier. Something in me told me to go and find the reason for the gathering, and when I reached there, I found Monica’s severely bloated body floating on the water. Her eyes were open and blank.Her face was swollen and blue. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A few people managed to get her body to the land, and my hands were trembling when I called an ambulance. Somebody from the crowd said the girl is already dead. I shouted at the person. I didn’t want to believe what he was saying. I didn’t want to believe the truth. I kept looking away from the body. A few minutes after I had called an ambulance James walked through the crowd. I was surprised and relieved to see him there. He was as surprised as I was. Before I could say anything to him, James was on his knees and crying. He wailed. I felt so sorry for him as he didn’t let go of Monica’s handall the way to a nearby hospital, in the back of an ambulance.

The next day, at Monica’s funeral, James cried some more. Every time he removed his dark sunglasses, it revealed his eyes— swollen, red and teary. I told myself that I was wrong to think that James didn’t love Monica. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have cried the way he did. At the funeral, I told James that Monica had called me to meet her, and thatshe had wanted to tell me something that had left her upset. James asked me what else Monica told me, and I said that was all she said. Before we could talk more on this, Monica’s dad called me, and I had to leave. I haven’t see James after that. I feel very sorry for him. I can only imagine how he is feeling right now.

Well, this letter is turning out to be a long one. Uff, there goes the light too. I am now writing this letter under torch light. I'm getting a weird feeling that someone's behind me. I just saw a shadow move near the window. I can hear footsteps. Is it just my imagination? I think I saw somebody with a knife.