Rivals For Breakfast

43| Hearth

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Pedro

Beautiful light being, star child of indigo. Your energy was felt, and it resonates here on earth with those you've left behind. I know you didn't see death, though your wings were ready for departure. The memories of you are still fresher than daybreak. The pearls in your eyes still shine brighter than the moon, the wind chimes in your lungs still sing their astonishing tune. And when the sun rises tomorrow with you no longer earth-side the world will feel your loss. But the angels will sing and paradise will rejoice because I know there's a heaven for people like you.

"He held up his promise," I tell Nolan, recounting the way Pedro looked. "He cut his hair, just like he said he would"

I lay my head over his lap allowing my mind to pour out its stormy thoughts. He plays with my hair, remaining quiet though I can hear his deep breaths expanding and contracting along with his rib cage.

"I bet she was waiting for him with their son, I bet they're still waiting for him" my voice cracks under the weight of my words. "But he'll never show up". I drag my forearm over my puffy eyes, chasing away the tears that won't stop coming.

"She'll think he broke his promise, she'll think he doesn't care about them, she'll think... he chose this life over his family, but they were the only thing he cared about."

"He never even got to see his son" I sob.

Nolan's hands stop twirling through my locs, he lets out a deep solemn laced sigh.

"I'm sorry Ava," he says.

I don't get a wink of sleep, although I close my eyes and recount all the good memories of shared pink starbursts, of secret nights spent in laughter at the foot of my dog house, of the many secrets I burdened him with because he was the only person I could entrust with my darkest thoughts. I can still feel how his arms would embrace me, and he would spin me around in circles just because he knew it'd make me laugh.

He refused to choose this life, fueled by the misery of others, so it claimed him as a martyr before he could escape it.

Why is it that those who deserve to win very rarely are at the kind end of fate. Why does the universe pluck away the pure souls, leaving behind a world filled with anger, rage, and hate. Why do we drown in the abyss of life searching for purpose and meaning, surviving off of random glimpses of happiness, when life is not something that can't be lived. We're at the mercy of the fourth dimension, a random loop of pre-determined experiences and emotions that plague us over and over until death comes around to claim us.

Pedro looked into the night sky and saw nothing but the sun that would shine tomorrow. He refused to see evil. He refused to let fear break him. He refused to give up hope, until hope swallowed him alive.

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I spend the week in Nolan's arms. His warm embrace and soft kisses keep me on my feet. He feels like safety. Like a net that catches me when I'm free falling. He's the bottom line, something I know, without having to figure out. We flow like water and everything is easy when I'm with him. He doesn't make me nervous. He doesn't make my palms sweat. He makes me steady and soft. He lets me grieve without imputing any stupid phrases people always regurgitate to those who are grieving.

We talk about life. His mom is working two jobs, she hardly ever makes it home. His dad calls every evening, but I can feel the tension in their words. They make small conversation, avoiding the elephants in the room. Just another broken family too busy chasing life to deal with the fractures right in front of their eyes.