My sister is the best.
Making my way back inside, I pause at the fridge, and peek inside.
Hmmm.
Think I’m going to need a little more than a box of bi-carbonate soda for dinner.
Time to go to the store.
***
Exiting my local store, I carry my bag full of groceries. And seriously! How expensive are groceries? Yeesh! I almost swooned when the checkout lady gave me my total.
Balancing the full, brown paper bag on my thigh, I rearrange myself, then walk on. But the sight of something familiar stops me.
My heart skips a beat.
I see him.
His back is to me. He’s walking away from me.
No.
I don’t think. I just run.
My bag of groceries weighs me down. I throw it to the side and keep running.
No matter how fast I go, I can’t seem to catch up with him.
My hands shake and my eyes blur. I must look like a crazy person running through the street sobbing. Wiping my watery eyes with my sleeve, I look again.
He’s gone.
“Fuck!” My heart pounds and blood roars in my ears. I keep running. Through gasping and shuddering breaths, I mutter “No,” over and over again.
I search and search but there’s no sign of him. He’s gone. I kneel in the center of the sidewalk. My body slumps forward, I cover my face with my hands, and let go.
Crying in frustration.
Crying for my loss.
Arms come around my body. I’m lifted into a strong, warm bear-hug. A deep voice whispers reassuring words that I can’t hear. Or just don’t want to.
I look up into warm, brown eyes. I croak, “What the fuck, Rock?”
His eyes become sad, and he quietly says, “Lovely Lily.” He looks around and states, “I shouldn’t be here.”
Gripping his shirt, I ask in desperation, “Is he dead? As in, really dead?”
Rock doesn’t answer for a long moment. Using his thumb, he wipes away my tears and tucks my hair behind my ear. His face is clear. It answers for me.
My heart breaks a little more.
Rock whispers, “He’s gone, sweetie.”
I still can’t accept it. “How do you know? Did they find him?”
He shakes his head. “They found bone fragments matching his in the rubble.”
My lip trembles, but I simply nod. He holds me tightly and silently. Wordlessly, we mourn together. Pulling away from him, I ask softly, “When can I see you again?”
Rock’s face plummets further.
I dip my chin, cover my eyes with one shaking hand, and cry harder. My heart is breaking even more. I’m losing them. All of them.
My first love.
My first real friends.
All the people I love and care about.
I lift my face to his and choke out, “Why?”
A single tear escapes Rock as he explains, “Because we don’t exist, babe. You can’t have imaginary friends.”
We stare into one another’s eyes. Rock begins to walk backwards.
Hyperventilating, I put a hand to my heart. I feel it crack a little more with every step he takes away from me. When he gets far enough away, he yells out, “You’ll never be alone, Lily.” He kisses his fingertips and places them on his heart. “I’ll always be watching.” Rock smiles a watery smile, and attempts to wink that cheeky wink of his, then he turns and walks out of my life.
Again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The best place to be
Lily
If you could go back in time, what would you change?
I would change a lot about the life I was living.
I would stand up to my father. I would talk more openly to my mother. I would make friends. I would tell my sister how much I appreciate her love and support. Every. Single. Day.
I would be more outgoing and less passive. I would stand up for myself, and fight for my right to live the way I wanted to. I would take the reins on my life.
I would be brave.
It has been six months since the explosion. Six months since Nox was killed. Since he was taken from me.
You know that saying ‘time heals all wounds’? Time seems to be working against me for unknown reasons, because my wounds are still raw, gaping, and tender. But no one can see them. My heart and head are no longer separate entities. They are joined. And they work together to bully me. They both tell me the same thing.
Move on.
Tears fill my eyes, and I pick thin strands of dewy grass. Rolling them between my fingers, it’s a wonder I can feel the wetness on my fingertips. I don’t feel a thing anymore.
I’m numb. To my very core.
I haven’t seen my father in months. We talk on occasion, but a lot has changed. It’s not that I blame him for the position my family was put in, but I need space. I don’t really want to see anyone. I speak to Mom and Terah almost every day, but I haven’t seen Mom since I left the mansion.
My father begged me to come home, but now that the threat of being killed has been eliminated, I just want to be on my own.
I’m not a child. I’m a grownup, dammit.
There is a difference between living and existing. And mine was a dull existence.
No more.
But there is one dull and morbid thing I still like to do, and according to my therapist, it’s helping me a lot.
The cemetery seems to be a good place to go to mourn. I sit and watch other people visit the headstones of their loved ones. They must feel some form of connection, knowing they are close by.
Some chat. Some laugh. Some cry. Some remain silent.
I have nothing.
Nox…he was never found. I have no headstone to mourn at. People who don’t exist don’t get funerals or graves.
I read somewhere that some people are meant to fall in love but not be together. Anger surges through me. That’s just not fair. The bridge of my nose tingles and my eyes blur. I squeeze them shut and try to swallow past the lump in my throat.
I would give anything to see him again. Even for a moment.
I would tell him I love him once more. I would kiss his full lips again. I would put my heart and soul into our last meeting together.
If I had the ability to go back in time, I would not have left him. I wish I’d gone back for him and made him to come with me.
If I’d begged hard enough, would he have gone with me? Could I have saved his life somehow?
The uncertainty of what his answer might’ve been haunts me every day of my life.
So, here I sit, on a bench, under a tree in the middle of my local graveyard. I come every Sunday. I bring my eReader and I spend most of the day here. It does something to me. It makes me feel serene and respectful. I know I’m unlike the people who come to visit the graves of their loved ones, but I’m no longer a religious person, and if there were any place I could come to grieve, it would be a cemetery, right?
Mourning isn’t easy. The pain of grief doesn’t go away. You just find a place for it. Store it away somewhere only you have access to.
There are different stages of pain, all of which hurt like a hell. Mourning someone you love, though, is agony. I just wish the pain wasn’t so sharp and stabby.
Losing Nox has brought me so much clarity. I feel so ashamed that it took the loss of his life to make me see things I
should’ve seen, what feels like a lifetime ago. He lifted the thick fog that was surrounding me, and sent it away.
Always protecting me, even in death.
I read somewhere that if you’re going through Hell, keep going. It’s the only way past it.
You have to face your pain, your guilt, and your sorrow. But when the strong hands of grief capture you, it is overwhelming, and completely devastating.
I fear I’ll never get past the stage of Hell I’m in.
The only way past grief is to grieve. It’s the high price you pay for a love so sweet.
I don’t think I’m ready to move on just yet.
Last Sunday, I was sitting at my regular bench, when I felt someone’s eyes on me. For a second, a note of panic went through me. I pretended to keep reading. A minute passed, and although I still felt eyes on me, the panic faded to nothing. Taking a chance, I looked up right in time to see Rock and Boo walk away from me. Boo’s back shook in what I’m sure were silent sobs, and Rock wrapped his arm around her waist. His hand came up to wipe at his own fallen tears. And somehow this made me feel content. A watery smile spread across my face and I stood, taking two small steps closer to them. When they reached the black SUV I’d travelled in many times during my stay at the safe house, they turned to face me. Holding my eReader to my chest, I lifted my free hand slightly, and extended my fingers in a motionless farewell.
Rock smiled, lifted his hand to his mouth, kissed his forefinger and middle finger and placed them over his heart. Boo smiled a shaky smile, and mouthed love you. Then I watched as they drove away.
So, of course, today I’ve been sneaking peeks all over the place, but sadly, they haven’t come.
I’m not very social, still. I’ve made a few friends at work. People around my age-group with similar interests, but I’m not forcing myself to get out there just yet. I’m comfortable in my loneliness.