Afire Love// ed sheeran

Polaroid

This is for my good friend, Hams. You annoy me but without you, history would be hell. Stop embarassing me in front of cute boys.

-Alyssa

It was a week later and I was sitting across from Taylor, a cup of coffee in my hand. Taylor had called me earlier in the day, wanting to hang out. I knew that our discussion would involve Ed's state but so far, our conversation had been Ed-free. 

"You're a really talented violin player and Julliard is having open auditions," Taylor persisted, sliding the flyer across the table and in front of me. "You have to go." Her voice was excited and it had been a while since I heard that. Since Ed's accident, Taylor has been anxious and worried, constantly on the phone talking with Ed's parents or various mutual friends to reassure them that Ed's condition was improving. I hadn't been able to pick up the phones; I hadn't visited Ed since that day when he didn't recognize me. It had been too painful for me to go back. 

"I would never make it," I replied, sneaking a peak at the flyer. 

Julliard, one of the highest music schools in the world, situated right here in New York, was having a very rare open audition for talented musicians. Usually, people had to go through a huge process that could run up to a year just to get an audition infront of a group of judges. But, once every few years, they had open auditions for aspiring musicians, giving away large scholarships to people they found worthy and deserving. Taylor had seen the pamphlet and instantly thought of me and my violin. The very idea of attending those auditions terrified me. I shook my head, laughing quietly as I folded the pamplet up and stuffed it into my purse. 

The table was cast into silence once more. Taylor began to fiddle with her fingers, looking down at the table. I knew where the conversation was headed and I didn't want to face it. I didn't want to look the devil in the eye and face the truth, that my life was in crumbles.

"Look... He needs you. He may not remember you, but he needs your support," Taylor said, pushing her bangs off her forehead. She smoothed down her skirt, sipping her diet coke. "You know him so well and I feel, everyone feels, that having you there will make his healing faster and maybe you can help him remember you."

The past nights had been absolutely horrid. Dreams were replaced with dark, soul-shaking nightmares. I dreamed of Ellie, of him getting hit with that car, of him dying, of him waking up and forgetting me. I had relived everything so harshly in my dreams. Did I want to face my worst nightmares in person? I knew Ed needed support. I knew he needed someone to reassure him that he would remember, someone to hold his hand and help him heal, not only physically but emotionally. I just didn't know if I had that kind of effort in me. I had loved Ed, loved him with so much force, so much of me. In Ed's love, I had found myself. I had been lifted up and shown to a new side of life, a side where joy was the only thing I could feel.

But when it was over, my whole body was flooded with extreme regret, a feeling of emptiness that settled over me uncomfortably. I felt the wind knocked out of my heart, my heart cracking and crumbling to a million tiny pieces. I felt useless, hopeless, and angry, not only at Ed but mostly at myself. Taylor could not just expect me to be happy, to act as if nothing ever happened. She could not expect me to put the small remnants of my hope and faith and use it on Ed, as if putting the small pieces of my heart would make a difference in his recovry. 

I looked at Taylor, shaking my head, taking a sip of my coffee. The hot liquid scolded my throat but I chugged it down, the burning liquid clearing my clogged thoughts. I cleared my throat and set the half empty mug down on the table. I stared out the window, sighing to myself once again. 

"Taylor-" I started. 

Taylor interrupted me, pressing her palms to the table as she leaned her head back on the cushioned booth. "I know it's a lot to ask and I don't expect anything of you. But... I just feel you need this right now, even if you don't stay around often. You need closure and he needs answers, you can give each other that and no more." 

She was right and I instantly knew it.

"I guess," I whispered, chugging down the rest of my coffee.

***

We were at the Manhattan Physical Rehab Center. Paparrazzi must have heard of Ed's stay because they lined the street, sitting down in lawn chairs as they prepared their cameras. At the sight of Taylor and I, they hopped out of their seats and picked their cameras up. Taylor's bodyguards stood on each side of us and Taylor flipped her sunglasses over her eyes as we pushed past the flashing lights and into the building.

The room was huge, a reception desk in the center of the room. A sofa and chairs were resting on one side of the room and the other side was filled with a couple of people, limping and with canes as they went to their rehab appointment. Taylor flashed her our visitor ID's and the lady waved us in. We walked into a small room, a set of chairs in one corner, a sofa on the other, and Ed was sitting on the sofa, staring out a window.

"Hey Ed," Taylor spoke up and Ed slowly turned towards us. I could see the bulge of bandages under his loose t-shirt, his hair a mess. He had a metal cast on his arm, a cane resting by the edge of the sofa. He had a line of stiches along his eyebrow and I could see the pain in his eyes as he turned towards us.

"Hey Taylor and uhhh," he said, wincing at me. He shook his head, picking the cane up from next to him as he struggled to get off of the sofa.

"Alyssa," I mumbled, diverting my eyes to the floor. Looking at him was painful, too painful to bear.

He limped towards us, slowly walking to us with the wooden cane. "Right. Nice to meet you." He stuck his hand out and I shook it robotically. There was no warmth in the gesture. There was no familiarity of our hands touching. It felt as if we were strangers, as if all the events from the previous week had pushed a void between us that was both quite obvious and quite permanent.

A doctor with brown shoulder length hair and tan skin walked into the room. She was pretty.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Athina. I'm Ed's rehabilitation doctor. I'm here to help him improve the strength in his legs and arm so that he can eventually stop using the cane," she said, turning to Taylor and I. Taylor took Ed's arm, guiding him to a seat. Dr. Athina shook his hand, a smile playing on his lips. I thought I saw a hint of something in his eyes, the same thing I saw the first night we met, after the concert when he handed me a shirt. It was a mixture of happiness, excitement, and wonder in his eyes, as if this Doctor was his next mission, another girl to woo. I felt sick so I sat down in a seat far from Ed and tried not to stare.  

"Nice to meet you," Ed stated, a smile on his lips as he shook her hand. 

Dr. Athina explained to us what rehab would mean for Ed- lots of working out his muscles as to strengthen them, also some therapy with a neurologist  to see how his brain is healing and mending itself after the injury. We learned that Ed would be fine, his condition may never be 100%  the same and there were many possible outcomes for Ed but the most important thing was to make sure that he worked his muscles out to improve his strength and flexibility. 

When the doctor left, I went outside to get a drink from the vending machines. I slid a dollar into the slot, pressed the button for a sprite, and picked my soda out of the slot. I pressed my forehead to the glass, took a sip of the soda, and sighed quietly. 

I went to walk into the room but heard Taylor and Ed talking. I sat down next to the door, sipping my soda and absentmindedly listening to their conversation. 

"Ed, you have to give her  a chance," Taylor insisted, her voice soft and sober. 

I heard Ed sighing, his voice full of frustration. "Look, I don't know her. I have no idea who she is. You tell me I loved her but how could I love her when I don't even know her?" 

I knew they were talking about me and I shook my head. I couldn't stand there and be the creepy girl intruding in his life. He didn't want me around and it was so obvious. He didn't want me in his life and I wasn't going to go where I wasn't welcomed. I picked up my bag from the seat and peaked into the room. Ed was sitting on the chair, his head rested near Taylor's as he rubbed his sore shoulder. 

"Goodbye Ed," I whispered, blowing him a kiss and opening my purse. In my wallet was a photo of Ed and I, his arm around my waist and his head on my shoulder. It was another polaroid. I stuck it to the door and walked out. It was a piece of his memory, a piece of our lives that was missing for him. I owed him some of his memory. This was all I could give him, this was all I had. 

Hope you enjoyed.