"I Can't Live Also and I Can't Die Also..."

 

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a golden light over the small, weathered chapel at the edge of town. Inside, the air was still, save for the soft creak of wooden pews under the weight of a lone man, kneeling, his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. His face, buried in his hands, trembled with the weight of a pain too vast for words.

Manuel had been coming to this chapel every evening since that fateful day, the day his world had crumbled when he lost his only son in a tragic accident. Each time he came, the silence of the place wrapped around him like a shroud, but tonight, the silence felt suffocating.

His whispers to God, once filled with hope and questions, had faded. Tonight, only one prayer remained. As the dusk deepened and the last traces of daylight disappeared, the dam holding back his grief shattered.

With a voice that cracked the quiet of the room, Manuel cried out, "Why, God? Why did You take him from me? He was just a boy... He was all I had."

The sound of his voice reverberated off the stone walls, echoing like the ache that throbbed within him. But no answer came. The emptiness remained, as vast and hollow as the space where his son's laughter had once filled his home.

Tears streamed down his face as he stood, hands shaking, fists clenched. He turned his eyes to the cross at the front of the chapel, his vision blurred by the tears that wouldn't stop.

In his heart, the grief had twisted into something darker-something desperate.

"I don't want to live anymore," he screamed, his voice raw, guttural, filled with every ounce of pain that he had tried to suppress. "I can't do it. I don't know how to live in a world without him. Take me, too. Please, God... just let me die."

Manuel's body convulsed with sobs as he fell to his knees, pounding the floor with his fists, as if somehow, if he hit hard enough, God would hear him. His voice, now hoarse and broken, rasped through the empty chapel. "I don't want to breathe without him. How could You let this happen? How could you be so cruel?"

Outside, the night deepened, and the stars began to dot the sky, but inside the chapel, it was as if time had stopped. Manuel's cries grew softer, and his strength waned until he lay curled on the cold stone floor, drained and hollowed out by his grief. The silence, once unbearable, now wrapped around him like a cold embrace.

For what felt like hours, he lay there, waiting for an answer. Waiting for something-anything— to break the despair that gnawed at his soul.

But no voice from the heavens came, no sign of comfort or peace.

Just the stillness.

Manuel's breaths slowed, his body shivering in the cool night air. In the quiet of the chapel, his plea remained unanswered, yet as he lay there, something shifted within him. He had no more strength left to scream, no more energy to fight the emptiness that had taken root in his heart.

And in that fragile moment, as his tears dried and the night grew deeper, Manuel realized that while his cries for death had gone unanswered, he was still alive. He was still breathing, though it felt like a curse. His heart still beat, though it felt broken beyond repair.

He sat up slowly, the weight of grief still pressing heavily on his chest, but now, there was something else-something faint, like the dimmest flicker of a candle. A question rose in his heart, unspoken but clear: If he was still here if God had not answered his plea for death, then maybe there was something left for him.

Manuel didn't have the answers, and he knew the road ahead would be long, dark, and filled with moments where the pain would overwhelm him. But in that moment, he made a choice-a fragile, tentative choice to keep breathing, even if every breath hurt.

He would not understand why his son was gone, nor would the ache in his heart disappear anytime soon. But for now, he would stand. For now, he would face another day.

He rose from the floor, wiping his tear-streaked face with trembling hands, and turned toward the door. As he stepped into the night, the stars above glimmered faintly, and the chill of the evening wrapped around him. His heart still ached, but he carried his grief with him, one small step at a time.

And in the vast silence of the universe, though no voice had answered his cries, he felt—if only for a moment that he wasn't walking alone.

God Bless Us All...