Love Is Blind

Upon my arrival to the home I noticed two things. The first being the limited number of vehicles in the parking lot. Alex had always been pretty popular in school, why weren’t there more students? The second being how exhausted Mr. Winters looked.

Mr. Winters was like a father to me. While I was signing the guest book, Mr. Winters caught my eye and walked over to me, abandoning the other guests. I was digging through my purse for my wallet when I was interrupted.

“Abbie, you know I don’t expect you to donate any money. You’ve always been like a daughter to me.”

I looked up, making eye contact, “Jacob, you know that if I were to put a check in that donation box for 20,000 dollars it would be like anyone else giving you a penny. Please? You need it more than I do. You know me, I’d probably just buy more shoes with it anyway. As if I need any more.”

Jacob Winters looked at me and smiled, “I’m going to turn around and greet the rest of my guests. If I don’t see you write out a check for an insanely high amount, it’s not my problem.”

I quickly embraced him before he wandered away, “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m going to miss calling you that.”

“Oh, Abbie. You know, you’ll always be the daughter I never had. I’m sorry, too. You and Alex were perfect for each other.”

By the time we let go, I was crying again. Wiping away my tears, I watched him walk back to the other guests. I began my search for my wallet once again. After sticking my check in the donation box, I slowly walked into the main room.

I felt nervous seeing everyone staring at me. A few hushed whispers reached my ears. Most of them were relatively the same.

“Yes, that’s her. The girl he was dating”

“I heard his girlfriend was the driver. That’s her. The girl up front. The one in the purple.”

I wanted to get away from these people. Out of earshot. I knew it wasn’t my fault, but it still hurt. Looking down at his still form, it felt surreal. As if I was watching a very cheap, poorly made movie.

I was staring. I knew it, too. But I thought that if I looked hard enough, long enough that I would see his chest rise and fall with his light breathing. He was merely sleeping. He couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t be…

My breath caught in my throat on the last word. I managed to swallow, but barely.

Dead.

Then, as if it was staring me in the face, I saw it. Something that looked hastily written, but was still clear as day. A note with ABBIE written across the top, tucked into his left breast pocket.

Carefully, I removed the note from his pocket. Walking over to Jacob Winters, I asked him, “Did you know about this?”

Looking down at the note in my hand, he nodded, “It’s what he wanted. He left me on like it and he didn’t want me to just hand yours to you. He wanted you to find it. He didn’t explain why, just that it was important. He specifically wrote that I needed to put it in his tuxedo pocket at the funeral and that it needed to be an outer pocket. Also, that the left side was preferred to the right, but as long as you could see it, which side didn’t matter too much. He also wrote that you would know what it meant.”

I nodded briefly before looking again at the note. I remembered when Alex and I were younger. We would always dress up in our prettiest clothes and pretend to be going to a wedding. Not just any wedding, either. Our wedding. We had it all planned out. It would be a small ceremony. He would wear a classic black tuxedo. Very sharp. And I? I would wear an elegant strapless. Our guest list would include our closest friends and family. And because we were five, we’d serve mac and cheese with hot dogs for the meal. Neither of us had been to a wedding when we planned how our was going to be. We didn’t know that after the ceremony, the couple would have a reception. What we did know from watching TV weddings was that sometime during the meal, there was a toast. So, during our play weddings, which usually took place right before lunch, at the very end, Alex would give his toast. It was the same toast every time we played. He would put his hand over his left breast pocket and say, ‘Abbie, you’ll always be in my heart.’

And I was.

I was brought out of my memories when Mr. Winters asked, “Are you going to read it?”

“Oh, yeah.”

I opened the note slowly, nervous about what I would read.

Dear Abbie,

It took me a long time to think of the words to explain what you mean to me. I love you. I know it’s not as eloquent as a poet, but they are powerful words. Not words to say to just anyone, because when you do, they become empty. They no longer mean anything special.

There were so many things I thought about telling you, but the more I thought about them, the less important they became.

I remembered many things from our childhood. Both good and bad. There was one I remembered that I couldn’t seem to forget about. We were nine. You had come over to my house and we were sitting up in the tree house. Right in the middle of our game, I just stood up. You looked at me with a smirk on your face and I remember you saying, ‘Alexander Jordan Winters, this better not be a way for you to cheat.’ I ignored you and walked to the chest by the wall. You got curious and followed me. When I turned around you were the perfect distance away. I bent down, on one knee, like I had seen in all the movies you forced me to watch with you. And I said, ‘Abbie Jean Smith, will you marry me?’ You just nodded because you were too stunned to speak. Out of my pocket I pulled a ring. It was nothing fancy. One of the rings out of the twenty-five cent machines at the grocery store. What I remembered the most was how happy I felt when you let me slide the ring on your finger. At that moment, I knew I would love you forever. You were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

I’m sorry I can’t give you your dream wedding. Just please, don’t blame yourself. I never did. Not once.

Love,
Alex

P.S. The envelope in the chest of the tree house is for you. I hope you like it.

Looking up, I saw everyone was making their way towards their seats. The service was about to begin.

The entire time the pastor was speaking, I kept thinking about Alex’s note. I didn’t even notice Mr. Winters walking up to the podium and start speaking. It wasn’t until he called my name that I was snapped out of my thoughts.

I reached into my purse for the note cards I made the night before. I had practiced what I was about to say enough times I probably wouldn’t need them. I brought them just to be on the safe side.

“Hi. My name is Abbie Smith. I’ve known Alex for as long as I can remember. He’s been my best friend for just as long. He was also something more than that. He was, who I believed to be, my soul mate. We didn’t start dating until we got into high school. Honestly, not only was it expected by everyone, but what I desired more than anything else.

I wrote two poems and I’d like to share them with you.The first poem, entitled Impact, I wrote in the hospital’s waiting room after I had been given the all-clear.

Hands sweating on the wheel
Driving down the boulevard.
I hear the laughter
From the backseat erupting,
The snoring man in front
Was just so funny.
Joking with my friends
I didn’t see what was ahead.
The impact of the crash
Left my head feeling funny.
Looking around
I saw it,
All the blood.

He appeared dead
As they lifted him from the car.
Tears fall from my eyes,
What if I’m the reason he dies?
As I collapse
To the ground,
The most beautiful voice
Whispers,
“Please, don’t cry.”
I hear the sirens
As they take him away.
“Please just let him be okay.”

The second poem I wrote shortly after his death. I couldn’t stand being around my family. They honestly couldn’t know how I felt. Not only did I lose my boyfriend, I lost my best friend. So, I drove. It’s called Long Miles Ahead. It sounded appropriate.

Cross country trip,
Trying to clear my head.
How did my life change?
Become so complicated?

That fateful day,
Not so long ago,
By the car
Running the red light.

Slow down
Think a little more.
Why did he have to go?
Leave me here alone?

Instead of him,
I should be gone.
My fault, my fault, my fault
How I know it’s so.

Regret
I feel deep inside.
Am I really to blame?
Wasn’t it my turn to die?

My mind goes blank
As I drive down the road.
On the horizon
Loom the long miles ahead.

When I looked up to step away from the podium. I looked out at the others mourning for the seventeen year old boy you couldn’t help but love. What I saw touched me. There was not a single dry eye. Even the whisperers had tears rolling down their cheeks.

There were a few more testimonies by family members I had met on odd occasions. When the service was over, I got up so I could hopefully make it back to school in time for fourth period.

“Abbie, wait a moment. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Turning around to face Jacob Winters, I saw him.

Walking towards me was Alex.