Letting Go

“Amor…”

When I wake up, my first thought is that I’ve died and gone to heaven.

It’s because the first thing I see is your smiling face above me.

I reach up to touch your cheek.

I have to make sure you’re actually here.

“Your hair is long,” I murmur, bringing my fingers up to twirl a strand. “Like…”

Not like the last time I saw you.

“Just like you remember,” you finish. “Do you know where we are?”

I sit up straight, taking in my surroundings.

“A beach,” I answer. “We’re at a beach.”

You smile.

You’re wearing your favorite yellow sun dress and your skin is tanned.

I remember.

“Am I dead?” I ask, without thinking. You only smile slightly and shake your head.

“So I’m dreaming, then,” I state, a bit disappointed.

Everything feels so real.

“It’s as real as it can be,” you reply, as if you’ve read my thoughts. “It’s as real as I can get for you, amor,” you say.

“I miss you,” I say, but you probably already know.

“That’s why I’m here.”

“Will I see you again?”

“I don’t know the answer to that,” you admit. I nod through the lump in my throat.

“Okay.”

You reach over for my hand, and we just walk along the beach, fingers intertwined as the tide rushes towards our bare feet and the slight wind blows your long hair around your sun-kissed shoulders.

It’s just like before.

I remember.

“I want you to go on tour.”

You break the silence first.

I feel my throat constricting while I look at you, and you’re staring back decisively.

“I don’t want to. I can’t. They can find someone else-”

“It wouldn’t be the same without you, amor,” you say. “You know it. They’re counting on you. You can’t give up music.” You stop walking.

“It’s just…hard,” I admit, coming to a stop beside you. “Everything reminds me of you.”

“It’ll get better,” you offer, reaching up to rest your hand on my cheek.

“How do you know?” I ask. Your dark eyes study me carefully.

“I just do,” you conclude, taking your hand back. “I never stopped loving you, you know,” you say.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You lean into me, and I automatically wrap my arms around you, burying my face in your hair.

You smell like you always did, and I savor it as long as I can.

“I have to go now,” you say suddenly against my shoulder, interrupting the peaceful quiet, save for the soft waves crashing against the sand. I reluctantly pull away.

“Wait. One more thing,” I stop you, before you can leave me. You hesitate.

“Okay. What is it?”

“Kiss me,” I plead quietly. You smile sadly. “Bésame.”

“Okay. But you have to close your eyes,” you say. I re-memorize your face before I obediently shut them, feeling your hands my cheeks.

I feel your lips ghost lightly over my jaw before they kiss the corner of my mouth.

I exhale in blissful contentment when your mouth meshes against mine pleasantly.

It feels so real.

Or maybe it feels this real because I want it to be so badly.

“Te amo,” I hear you whisper breathlessly against my lips.

When I open my eyes, you’re gone.