Time-shift

It's a strange sensation, the time-shift.

It feels so long ago. So far away. So distanced. Such a long time that you can barely remember what it was like before. You miss it so much. Their voice, their face, their smell, the touch of your hand on their skin, the way they move, the things they say, the look on their face when they're happy, surprised, confused, anything. You spend your time going over it, thinking about it, remembering them. You're terrified in case you forget even the slightest detail.

And at the same time, somehow it feels like it was just yesterday. Sometimes even closer than that. Sometimes you feel like you're reliving that day all over again. It's all so new and so fresh. The memories are so vivid in your head. You're back there again, in that room. You see them there like it's just happening, and somehow at the same time it doesn't seem like it's them. You hear that sound. That sound that you will never forget. And then it's quiet. You stand outside and the doctors and nurses are silent, they stand in the reception and look at you in silence. It's strange. A&Es aren't known for being silent. You feel the pain as if it's happening all over again. You feel the hurt you felt when you heard that. You feel the shock you felt that night. You feel the anxiety, the sadness, the fear, the tension.

It simultaneously feels like so long ago and so new and close. And all that time you're living in a dream world.