Aurora | H.S.

25. my sunshine

🌼

The freezer isle blues into a whirl of bright colors as I stand here, competing with it's icy temperature. The days have moved by slowly, only causing the layer of ice around my head to get thicker. It's been ten days since Harry left on the eight o'clock bus to the city. I find myself more often then not, waiting for him to return. I've spent most nights waiting to hear him at the door, pleading for me to open up and give him a second chance. I've wondered endlessly about where I went wrong or what I could've done differently. I've also wondered if any of this was actually worth it.

Mom told me the day after he left that she supports my happiness, and wants me to find someone who'll love me and stay. It was ironic coming from her; she didn't exactly approve of him. Then there was Peter who had his doubts to begin with.

I've struggled to hold a conversation with him and Cecilia all week, getting lost in my thoughts as they rant on to me about their lives. They don't seem to understand what it's like to give up the person you love the most in order to make them happy. I don't think they'll ever understand sacrifice like I me, and that makes me envy them—along with their ability to find love.

I swore keeping myself busy would get him off my mind. It was a tactic I used with Austin. His absence didn't just affect me emotionally, though. There was a little girl that he left behind too. And while I didn't love him like I loved Harry, I wanted so badly for us to be a family. But he left behind a piece of him that he'll get the chance to love because he wasn't ready to be a dad. It's not like I was ready or prepared, but I learned. Every week that past without Austin was a week of more symptoms and a growing belly. At least with Harry, his absence doesn't leave me with much more than a broken heart. Sometimes I can't help but wonder if he was even here in the first place.

Years ago, nothing hurt me more than the sleepless nights I'd be laying in bed, unable to get comfortable because of my belly. There were plenty of nights that I wanted to call Peter or Cecilia, beg them to come over and give me a foot massage or help me out of bed. There were days where I couldn't look at myself in the mirror for fear of not recognizing the person I was becoming. Even today, three years later, I catch my reflection in the glass door in the freezer isle and see me, etched and pieced together with the pieces of a stranger.

"Excuse me." A cruel voice echos through my head and disrupts my thoughts. I look over a see a woman with a scowl on her face, grocery cart almost filled to the max. I step back, smiling softly as she moves past me, shaking her head with annoyance.

My focus shifts back to ice cream section in front of me. Chocolate or chocolate brownie? Strawberry or espresso? I look at the different flavors and brands as if any of it matters to me. In the end, I'll still pick my usual pint of Ben & Jerry's. Is it cliché to say that I've found solace in sweets?

I feel like I've been pulled out of some romantic comedy on Netflix, eating ice cream to fill up the vacancy not only in my stomach but in my heart. Whatever, my inner voice says, ice cream is good. And who cares if I gain ten or twenty pounds? It's not like I'm trying to impress anyone.

I settle on a classic: Ben & Jerry's chocolate brownie. After tossing it into my basket, I turn and head back down the isle past a few people. Turning into the one beside this one, I hear my name. "Diana?"

I look back, seeing Avery. She wears a pair of blue jeans and a lightweight blouse on top, her auburn hair pulled back into a low bun. "Hi," she exhales. "How are you?"

"I—uh, I'm okay," I force a smile. "I never got to thank you for dinner last week. It was nice. Sorry things kind of spiraled out of control."