wouldn't mean it."
He took one more step closer, close enough so he could lean a little closer to my ear, and no one could hear. "So for old times' sake, gonna say hi." The iciness of his voice chilled me, his look stony as he moved back.
"Hi," I replied back weakly.
Then he took another step, walking completely past me, all the way out.
I didn't look back.
But I had a feeling, deep in my gut, neither did he.
Chapter Two
My anchor
Gem was buried that Saturday.
I didn’t cry.
I wasn’t sure why exactly. I just knew I was feeling numb. Like it was happening to someone else, not to me, and I was watching as each moment unfolded.
Gem. Her warm hugs. Her teasing and matchmaking. Playing Scrabble on a warm summer day in the porch, and promising a rematch, after I'd lost twice. She was a dreamer, while dreams to me were fleeting remnants of hope, so removed from reality. She was a firm believer of true love, and how it ran deep. She always believed in me and him and what we had, even long after I stopped, because the thought was too painful.
There was the shame that I didn’t stay. She wanted me to stay, she told me as much. Chase and I could fix this, she said.
Had she thought I abandoned her too, the way people back here did? I thought back to our last conversation, when I told her about my last signing. No, not Gem. When I lost everything, she kept me grounded. She was proud of me.
When I was nine, I took a post card from one of her drawers. To my nine-year-old self, it looked shiny and pretty. I misplaced it, and was scared to approach her when I knew it was important to her. She loved collecting stamps and post cards from everywhere she’s been. I always suspected she knew, but she never said anything. I never told her that. Why did I never tell her?
When my mom seemed lost in her own world, grandma picked me right up, and read to me my first novel as I fell asleep; The Princess Bride . I’ve developed my love of literature and reading ever since.
Why did I leave? Was I poison to all the relationships I’ve had? I felt like I kept making a trail of careless decisions– I just didn’t know where that left me.
* * *
I don’t think I really talked to anyone after. I don’t think I was capable of it if I tried. People came up to me to give me a hug, and their condolences. They loved her and respected her. And whether they felt that way about me too or not, it didn’t matter. That alone was enough.
I found I didn’t have it in me to be snippy to Matilda. I couldn’t find anger or disappointment, and so I didn’t have the right words to give anyone.
Chase gave me a wide berth. If he thought it unusual that I didn’t speak, he didn’t say anything. But I took it for what it was, and I was grateful for it.
* * *
I found that after the service, with the days that followed, I couldn’t write anything. It didn't bleed into my writing, but to everything else.
Perhaps I was scared to open myself up in that way. Or maybe it was the sudden anger that was boiling inside, waiting to be unleashed on some poor unfortunate soul— I was determined not to get there.
I was inconsolable. In other words, I was a complete mess. The worst thing was, I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I don’t think the people around me knew how to either.
At the end of another day, I dropped down in bed.
With my door slightly ajar, in the room next to mine, Coldplay’s ‘Paradise’ was playing.
Haley. She was playing it for me.
I shut my eyes and let myself drift off
* * *
After nearly a week, it was as if something in me resurfaced.
The room, previously my sanctuary and safety blanket felt cramped, and I felt the sudden need to go out. It didn’t matter where, as long as it was anywhere that wasn’t here.
I was a morning person, so it was pretty rare for me to run evenings. Today, I felt that I needed the extra distraction.
So I got changed, put on my trainers, and got outside where I could finally
He took one more step closer, close enough so he could lean a little closer to my ear, and no one could hear. "So for old times' sake, gonna say hi." The iciness of his voice chilled me, his look stony as he moved back.
"Hi," I replied back weakly.
Then he took another step, walking completely past me, all the way out.
I didn't look back.
But I had a feeling, deep in my gut, neither did he.
Chapter Two
My anchor
Gem was buried that Saturday.
I didn’t cry.
I wasn’t sure why exactly. I just knew I was feeling numb. Like it was happening to someone else, not to me, and I was watching as each moment unfolded.
Gem. Her warm hugs. Her teasing and matchmaking. Playing Scrabble on a warm summer day in the porch, and promising a rematch, after I'd lost twice. She was a dreamer, while dreams to me were fleeting remnants of hope, so removed from reality. She was a firm believer of true love, and how it ran deep. She always believed in me and him and what we had, even long after I stopped, because the thought was too painful.
There was the shame that I didn’t stay. She wanted me to stay, she told me as much. Chase and I could fix this, she said.
Had she thought I abandoned her too, the way people back here did? I thought back to our last conversation, when I told her about my last signing. No, not Gem. When I lost everything, she kept me grounded. She was proud of me.
When I was nine, I took a post card from one of her drawers. To my nine-year-old self, it looked shiny and pretty. I misplaced it, and was scared to approach her when I knew it was important to her. She loved collecting stamps and post cards from everywhere she’s been. I always suspected she knew, but she never said anything. I never told her that. Why did I never tell her?
When my mom seemed lost in her own world, grandma picked me right up, and read to me my first novel as I fell asleep; The Princess Bride . I’ve developed my love of literature and reading ever since.
Why did I leave? Was I poison to all the relationships I’ve had? I felt like I kept making a trail of careless decisions– I just didn’t know where that left me.
* * *
I don’t think I really talked to anyone after. I don’t think I was capable of it if I tried. People came up to me to give me a hug, and their condolences. They loved her and respected her. And whether they felt that way about me too or not, it didn’t matter. That alone was enough.
I found I didn’t have it in me to be snippy to Matilda. I couldn’t find anger or disappointment, and so I didn’t have the right words to give anyone.
Chase gave me a wide berth. If he thought it unusual that I didn’t speak, he didn’t say anything. But I took it for what it was, and I was grateful for it.
* * *
I found that after the service, with the days that followed, I couldn’t write anything. It didn't bleed into my writing, but to everything else.
Perhaps I was scared to open myself up in that way. Or maybe it was the sudden anger that was boiling inside, waiting to be unleashed on some poor unfortunate soul— I was determined not to get there.
I was inconsolable. In other words, I was a complete mess. The worst thing was, I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I don’t think the people around me knew how to either.
At the end of another day, I dropped down in bed.
With my door slightly ajar, in the room next to mine, Coldplay’s ‘Paradise’ was playing.
Haley. She was playing it for me.
I shut my eyes and let myself drift off
* * *
After nearly a week, it was as if something in me resurfaced.
The room, previously my sanctuary and safety blanket felt cramped, and I felt the sudden need to go out. It didn’t matter where, as long as it was anywhere that wasn’t here.
I was a morning person, so it was pretty rare for me to run evenings. Today, I felt that I needed the extra distraction.
So I got changed, put on my trainers, and got outside where I could finally
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