I saw a car driving toward Reykjavík yesterday. At least that’s where I assumed they were going. The sound woke me, my eyes swollen shut from crying. I scrambled to my feet. It was late in the day, the sun low on the horizon. My first thought was that It had already passed and I had missed my opportunity. I stood motionless, straining to make out the direction it was headed. It was definitely getting louder. My heart started racing.
The car appeared from behind a small hill in front of me a few hundred yards away. For a moment, time stood still. I had envisioned this scene play out every day since I started walking out to the road. My mind drifted off, thinking of home, holding my family in my arms. As the car came closer, I snapped back to reality and ran toward it, waving my arms. I held my hands out in front me, pleading for help, but they didn’t slow down.
I caught a glimpse of the occupants as the car drove by. It was a young woman with two small kids in the back seat. I could see her staring straight ahead. As she passed, I watched her glance out of the corner of her eye. We made eye contact briefly and then she was gone.
I ran after her, my excitement turning to anger. Lungs burning, I gasped for air. I reached down, picked up a rock and threw it as hard as I could, knowing that it would never reach its target. In my rage I lifted another larger rock above my head and smashed it on the ground. I collapsed to my knees as my anger gave way to sadness. How could she do this to me? I laid down on the pavement listening to the car for as long as I could. It was hard to hear over my sobs. After a few minutes the distant hum disappeared behind a rocky outcrop. I rolled over onto all fours and retched, throwing up what little I had in my stomach.
By the time I had some semblance of control over myself, it was dark. Clouds had moved in and blocked the moonlight. A strong southern wind pushed in from the coast. It had a faint brine smell to it. Everything felt hard. Gathering my thoughts. Standing up. Even walking proved challenging. After one particularly nasty fall, I didn’t immediately get back up. My mental and physical exhaustion had taken its toll. I felt defeated.
I thought about what it would be like to lay in place until death. My body decomposing, sinking back down into the earth. Could I do it? Would anyone come looking for me? That thought scared me the most. The fact that I could disappear and nobody would know, and worse nobody would care. I stood up and started walking, knowing full well that I didn’t have the conviction to pull it off.
When I got back, Aldan tried to corner me, but I couldn’t even look him in the eyes. I walked straight past him upstairs to my bedroom, locked the door and laid down in bed.
I thought about the woman in the car as I replayed the scene over and over again in my mind. Our eyes only met briefly, but I could see the fear, the desperation. It’s comforting to know that I’m not the only one that’s scared. Grief is much easier to deal with when it’s shared, even if it’s with a stranger.