The Last Kiss

I stroll along the sidewalk. I feel so numb, I'm not even too sure what song is being blasted through my headphones. I've walked here so many times, it's the way I always walk home from work. But this is the first time I can remember walking alone. Everything I pass reminds me of you. The words you said, the ideas you had, the knick-knacks you made out of clay. Life has passed like a blur since you. Your words etched in my mind,

"Please don't cry," You asked through your own tears as I fumbled for my phone. Sitting under the sky, it seemed much too bright. I dialed, but we both knew it was worthless. But I hoped that it would be worth a chance.

"You know I never cry," I had replied shortly. Of course, he knew I never cry. He was the person who had heard every sad thought that I ever had, he was the person who saw my scars and cried because try as he might he couldn't heal them. While I sat, sad, but unable to cry. I had just accepted it.

"Stop. Can you sing?" I hated singing. But he was dying. I sat down and began to sing, he wanted the Beetles. That was the only band he would listen to. The only music he would play on our old piano. I knew practically every song ever by the Beetles by heart. And that's how I sat with him for twenty minutes, waiting for the ambulance that never came or for a Deus ex Machina (as I learned in college, basically a miracle) We weren't that lucky. There, by a bright yellow Volkswagon beetle (your yellow submarine) under a bright blue sky, driving back from a perfect day, you left.

I sigh pushing open the pale pink door. I've got to stop dwelling on this I think. I switch the lights on, and the music off. It feels too empty. Azara took Comet, our dog. The typical clutter has been cleared away. I close my eyes and sit. I never cry. I repeat over and over, I can't break my promise to myself now. A single tear falls, but that's too much. I stand up, overcome by a sudden wave of resilience. Unfeeling, blocking out the emotions I know so well, I begin to clean. I dust the shelf and see the light illuminate the tiny specs. I guess you could call it a coping mechanism. Then, I make the mistake of turning on the radio. And I Love Her starts, with the oh so familiar intro piercing through my heart. I'm not much for dancing, but for you I did. And this was the song, the one song I would dance to. The tears fall rapidly, and I can't do anything to stop them. Whenever I've read books or poems, whenever someone feels sadness the author uses the cliche idea of a character curling into a ball. As if they can hide from it all. Well, it's not so cliche now that that is exactly what I did. Fifteen minutes later, I sit on the floor wearing your old clothes. I have to stop. This is why my parents kept me at their house for so long after the crash. Because they didn't think I was strong enough.

Three Years Later

I somehow became successful. I also became hated. Hated by anyone who knew me. It wasn't their fault. I made myself impossible to love. And this is exactly what I meant to happen. It took a long time, but there was no one left who cared for me so by the law of my brilliant idea, I couldn't care for them. I had isolated myself in my work, the last time I talked to my parents was three months ago when they begged me to move back in with them.

"You know what happened last time." I bit my lip, he was the one who had saved me last time.

"I do," I spoke, daring them to bring you back to life for a moment, bring back the memories I had worked to bury. The took the bait. Hook, line, and sinker.

"He had to save you," I knew that. I know where I would be if he hadn't seen past my curtain of lies.

"But he also broke me." I tear up. I never used to cry. I never used to care. But he broke the wall that I had laid so carefully. Never, in my wildest dreams, did I think we would have a last kiss.