Forever

Forever

It has been twelve years… over a decade of living without her. Life has dragged on; I have finished college, started a new career, formed new relationships, and tried, tried hard, to move forward.

In the midst of all of this, I remember losing you; however, I have lost sight of your face, your smell, your… laughter. You were everything to me then, and now you seem barely a memory. My thoughts of you are sweet nostalgia, but they fade like the sun as it sets in the western sky. Some days, you cross my busy, overpacked mind.

I oftentimes feel I'm past the memory of you, because grief is like that at times; it can hide amongst the tall grass of excitement and ambition, and then, like a fawn hidden in the wilderness, you stumble upon its fragile existence, and you're struck by its unpredictability. 

The rain this morning has me feeling particularly glum. So I walk to my room to grab a change of clothes. It would be better not to drown in my sorrows, but to clean up, get changed, and maybe read a good book.

As I reach up to grab a shirt out of my closet, a box falls from the top shelf, spilling out various knickknacks from my childhood.

I can only sigh as I kneel down, knees and back fighting me the whole way as I begin cleaning it up.

Each little object sparks a memory of simpler times: a baseball card of my favorite player, which I traded a week's worth of allowance for; a gold dollar coin my grandfather gave me just before he died. That one gets me. I feel its familiar grooves as I roll it in my hand. My grandfather lovingly collected them his entire life. Unfortunately, neither my sister nor I cared much for them.

I shake my head at the memory and chuckle. Grandpa definitely wouldn't have been happy about that.

I place a few more items back in the box: a blue golf ball from when I won the mini-golf tournament in seventh grade, a two-dollar bill I found in a supermarket on the corner a block from my house when I was fourteen. I place them back like gold being buried in a chest, each one returned to its final resting place.

I stand up, sighing at it all, when suddenly—

Wait… what is that?

A glint of something silver catches my eye beneath the back corner of my bed.

I kneel to reach underneath the bed; pain, sharp and stabbing, erupts in my back. I grunt and grab the object.

A silver necklace.

It's familiar. My mind slowly catches up as I look at its fragile appearance—a heart with little red rubies set inside it. 

The memory of it hits me like a tidal wave, and the emotions surge back. Tears, the ones I had done my best to bury, arrive in their familiar places.

I hold it tightly, almost fearful that I may lose a trinket I had already lost for over a decade.

Your beauty instantly floods my mind as I gaze at the representation of our relationship. 

I think back to when our love started small, in elementary school. You would come to school with a tiny lunch, your family too poor to send more. I felt compassion for your situation.

You never cried, never spoke up about it, and yet I knew you were sad. So I shared my lunch with you. I can honestly say that never stopped.

Then, when middle school came, along with the usual things that happen to both boys and girls, I began to develop feelings for you, not knowing you already had them for me.

Our school decided a Sadie Hawkins dance would be a good idea, and I, having already accepted my almost-zero chance of getting a date, was surprised when you showed up at my locker on the first day of the announcement and invited me.

It was at that dance, lost in the embarrassing shuffles and footsteps upon each other's feet, that I fell hopelessly in love with you.

The necklace hangs in my shaking hand. As it turns, I see something on the back of the heart. It says, in flowing script:

Forever.

But what is forever when it can be fractured by eternity?

We entered high school as an item, a couple, and every student wanted what we had. We were in love, hopelessly and totally smitten. On your birthday, freshman year, I gave you the necklace that had just spent over a decade in my bedroom, buried and alone.

I tried so hard to move on, to leave this all-consuming grief behind, but on this rainy Saturday, it's almost too much to bear. 

In high school, I cannot remember a single moment when we didn't spend every class, every study hall, every hour, and minute we could together, and you never took that necklace off. It was a part of you, a part of us. It represented to me a love that would stand forever. How naive young love can be. It leaves you feeling breathless, invincible, and hopeful.

All this time your family had continued to struggle, but now you had me… and I was enough.

“Why…. Why?” My voice chokes on a question that was never answered.

We headed into senior year ready to finish strong. On Valentine’s Day that year, we celebrated at our favorite hangout, and as we pulled up to your unfortunate home, we kissed. The smell of Lip Smackers and that fruity perfume still lingers in my memory… 

As we kissed, your father, angry over his current job loss, yelled from the door, "GET IN THE HOUSE!"

That makes me chuckle; your frantic face, which still found a way to smile despite your circumstances, is what made me stay in love with you.

You quickly kissed me one more time and told me goodbye as you ran into the house.

I glance down at the box, contemplating placing the necklace in it, but I'm not ready to let go. I shiver; my room is cold, and my chest hurts.

I didn't know it then, but that was the beginning of the end.

A week later, you got a letter in the mail, something you never thought possible.

I never stopped believing in you, or your worth. To me, I needed to save you.

But then that letter showed up; it was from an Ivy League college…

I thought it would change everything.

I spent my life being your safe corner, your anchor amidst a home that was chaotic and traumatic. But you grew in that safe space, and the reality was, you were going to aim for the stars.

At first, I was angry at that letter. It represented everything I had ever feared about you and myself.

You were smart. No, you were more than smart. You were brilliant.

You worked tirelessly at my home, writing papers, working through difficult equations, and stumping even the teachers at times. You were driven, not just in your love for me, but in your ambition to be more than your home life, more than your past.

I was swept away in grade-school love, naively thinking you would never leave as long as there was love. I had good grades, but not great ones. I spent my days dreaming about you and the dead-end reality of high school sports.

In the meantime, I helped my dad with his business, thinking that after school I could do that, and it would be enough for a small life together.

See, honestly, I can't blame you.

I wanted to rescue you, but you never needed that. You needed me to just love you.

You wanted to see the world, and I only wanted to see you.

You came to me with that letter. It came from Harvard.

You were scared to open it, and I couldn't help but be excited for you. You asked me to open it, and I, with all the gusto of a guy completely lost in love and adoration, did so. 

Harvard had accepted you.

A scholarship. Fully paid.

Quite literally, a dream come true.

You fell to your knees, weeping with joy at the reality that your life had changed forever. I, in turn, wept at the reality that your life had changed forever.

But this wasn't the end.

After we graduated, our summer was spent with lingering tears, kisses, hugs, cuddles on porch swings, and excitement about our future.

I spent it dying inside, wasting what little time we had left thinking about my feelings. I didn't want to live life, even temporarily, without you. Foolishness is often twenty-twenty in hindsight.

The last day, your dad, too drunk to get off the couch, and your mom, working a fourteen-hour split, couldn't even take you to the airport.

My parents, realizing this was goodbye, hugged you for the final time. They loved you, but I think they always knew.

You hugged me before getting into the car, like it would be the last time you'd ever get to hug me.

I breathed in all your familiar scents, the sweetness of the Lip Smackers and fruity perfume. I felt your beating heart against my heartbroken chest.

The words you spoke, I have forgotten so much, but I have never forgotten those.

"I love you, always and forever. I'm yours, forever and always"

You took that necklace off, the one I had given you freshman year, a cliché necklace that was filled with authentic, realized love.

You attempted to hand it over to me.

"You can't take this off; how will you remember me?”

I replied, half joking and half pleadingly,

"It is forever. I'll never forget you; you'll see me before the year is out! How do I know you won't forget me?" You smiled sadly.

I took the necklace, and we kissed, long and desperate. The finality of it was almost too much to bear. 

I drove you to the airport.

You held my hand.

The tension was palpable. My heart raced like I was facing some impending doom. I sensed the finality of the car ride, and honestly? I believe you did too.

I still hear the roar of that semi.

Twelve years seems like a long time.

And it was.

Life hasn't been easy without you… My neck still cracks and hurts when I turn it; my back is stiff from the rods running through it. It all seems so small though. 

We never saw the eighteen-wheeler; I simply took the green light, and you crossed into oblivion. I still remember your face, the look of excitement at the future, when it was so abruptly taken from you.

Why? Why did I stay and you leave? I had no desire to stay in a world without you.

But that isn't what happened, and so I grieve; twelve long years later, you still surprise me.

I needed this necklace.

That necklace will always remind me that something doesn't have to last forever to have been forever.

I place the treasure in the box back on the top shelf, my tears still wet on my face.

You know? Life may move on, but love is forever, and we? We were forever…