Yours Truly [h.s.]

3

My senior year was something of a blur, passing months of hallway torture, always remedied at the end of the day by your arms wrapped tightly around me. By your whispered words, gentle and calm, reminding me that there is a big, wide world outside of high school. That, soon, I can extend my wings and take off to new destinations.

And, so, I held onto that. Desperately.

Each day was simply another check on the pathway to graduation - all I had to do was exist until then. Harry and I had settled into our normal, with me staying tucked into his side on the weekends, popping into his apartment at least twice a week, otherwise. Spending my senior year "lasts" in the quiet comfort of his home with tangled limbs and desperate lips. Making weekly dinner plans with Grandma, the three of us sitting around her dining room table after having helped cook. Her insisting that he take every last bit of leftovers.

She told me one day while you were in the bathroom, that she was glad we would come over so often so she knew you were eating. Said that she would check on you every day if her eyesight wasn't so bad that she could no longer drive.

The only truly notable moment of my senior year was the photography showcase.

It'd been weeks upon weeks of planning - of photographing and editing and grueling over decision-making. Harry took me to Acadia regularly to make sure I had plenty of pictures to choose from. His static electricity smile sending sparks shooting through my body.

Harry helped me mount and frame the images, each one a different bird. Representations of life. Of love, of luck, of peace. He was amazed by the little facts, asking me every day, "Dove, what does this bird mean?"

Cardinal - visiting angels. Robin - perseverance. Sparrow - love and luck. Blue jay - intelligence. Puffin - humor. Woodpecker - protection. Hummingbird - healing. Eagle - majesty. Dove - rebirth. Chickadee - joy. My flock.

You were so damn excited for me at the showcase - the first person to arrive, with Grandma at your side, making your quiet, astounding entrance. Walking straight for my booth and asking question after question as if you weren't my springboard for ideas throughout the entire process. Grandma dabbed at her eyes with one of the thousands of Kleenex that resided in her pockets, smiling so widely her entire face became sunshine.

I had so many people float by, praising my work, drowning me in compliments. You'd eventually taken Grandma home once the standing started getting to her knees and I thought you were headed home afterwards, but you came back. You might as well have busted through the doors with a spotlight illuminating your figure, with how quickly I was drawn into your eyes.

Green bean.

Our 1 year anniversary was three weeks later and my heart was melting away into parking lot slush at your daily, "It's almost been one full year, chickadee!"

Consistent.

I told Harry not to make a big deal about our one year and, for once, he actually listened. We took yet another trip to our spot in the park, on the bench about a half mile down the hardest trail. Right next to the big pine tree. People didn't often hike that trail, the longest and most difficult. So the birds were free to hop from branch to branch, soaking in the peace. Soaking in the nature seeping into their feathers.

"Can you believe it's been a year?" Harry asked as he fiddled with my fingers. His head was nestled in my lap, cheek resting against my tummy.

"Feels longer."

His eyes fluttered shut as I raked my nails through his curls, watching as they sprung back into place the moment they escaped my fingers.

"A little bit, yeah," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss against my shirt.