Invincible

The box sat on my desk for weeks, collecting dust, before I finally gathered enough courage to open it and see what was inside. It took a few weeks for me to finally have control over my temper, and the emotions that flew everywhere when the news of Parker’s death finally sank in. It took a few weeks for me to be ready to think about opening the box, let alone actually do it. I remember the tight feeling in my chest as I picked up the box and set it down on my lap as I sat on my bed. I’d thrown her clothes into my closet, in the very back so I would never have to see them again. I’d washed my pillow case to get rid of her strawberry shampoo scent and I’d done just about everything that I could to erase her form my mind.

This was the last thing that I had to do.

I lifted the lid slowly, deliberately, and placed it beside me on the bed. Inside were various objects, pieces of paper, pens, necklaces, and movies. It was a chaotic mess inside the box, and before I even took a moment to examine one single piece of paper, I knew what the box was -- I knew what this was.

I swallowed against the lump in my throat and before I could even read the writing on the first piece of paper that I picked up and unfolded, I had tears prickling the corners of my eyes. The words shot through my chest, and I rubbed the tears away before they could fall as my eyes scanned the page through blurry vision.

Every single note that I had ever wrote for Parker, and every single note she’d ever wrote to me, were inside of the box. No matter how little, big, heart wrenching, or happy the notes were, she had put them inside, folded neatly. I couldn’t help myself; I looked over every note and read all of them and I cried as my mind slowly turned numb from the emotional pain and all I could do was cry. It was useless to wipe the tears away, because they would just come back a few seconds later, so I let them fall down my face and drip from my chin to my shaking hands as I held onto the notes tightly, crinkling the paper, and tried so hard to bring her back.

I never prayed to God before, but I did that night. I prayed to God for hours, begging for him to bring her back to me. I promised to be good, to take care of her if he brought her back. I promised to never take her for granted again, and to tell her how much I loved her, and how beautiful she was -- inside and out.

At the very bottom of the box, under all of the other notes that I had taken out and laid carefully on my bed around me, was one last sheet of paper, folded into fourths. I slowly opened it, and as soon as the familiar handwriting at the top read My Future with Brian Elwin Haner Jr I physically sobbed and my whole body wrenched forward and I put my face in my hands as the paper dropped to my lap.

I am going to marry Brian as soon as I turn twenty, and I’m going to be a cute bride.
I am going to have two kids with Brian -- Victoria if it’s a girl and Levi if it’s a boy.
I am going to live in a big, beach house with Brian, so we can watch the sun rise and set together every day.
I am going to make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for Brian all the time.
I am going to get a dog with Brian, and we’re going to name it Nemo.
I am going to make Brian fall in love with me, no matter what.

Near the bottom, my messy handwriting wrote out: Parker could never be a cute bride.

I let out a humorless, watery laugh as I remembered how angry she’d gotten with me. She had crossed it out, but I could still make out what it said. I crumpled the piece of paper up into a ball and tossed it to the corner of my bedroom, as far away from me as it could possibly get.

“God,” I whispered to myself as I wiped the tears away with the sleeve of my hoodie. “This is ridiculous.”

In the corner of the box was a tangled, gold necklace. I picked it up and saw the familiar, cheap cat charm that I had bought for her two Christmas’s ago because I’d been low on money and it was cheap. She had loved it all the same, though. I couldn’t get her to take it off, even if we were going to a dance and her dress had silver on it instead of gold, she insisted on wearing it.

It felt strange to hold the small charm in my hand. It seemed like so long ago that I had held it last, just before I’d given it to her. My fist closed around it and I squeezed it tightly, as if it would bring her back, and I shut my eyes and prayed again.

I let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and finally dropped the necklace to the blanket below me. There was a movie in the box -- our movie. All Dogs Go To Heaven stared up at me, video form. I never admitted to liking the stupid movie, but I knew every single word to all of the songs.

At the bottom of the box, she’d wrote a message in a purple pen.

I’m sorry I couldn’t make you love me.

The purple pen was laid out somewhere on my bed, as she had left it in there, and I picked it up and removed the top. Underneath her neat scrawl, I wrote out my response: I always loved you.

I put everything back into the box, including the crumpled future plans list she had made back when we were still together and the cancer had been a silent enemy. But before I closed the box, I wrote a new note for her. Even if she never got to read it, or see it, I felt a little more of a closure leaving it in there for her to see from heaven.

I’ve always loved you, since day one. I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful girl there was. And no one will ever be able to make me love them the way that I loved you.

You’re going to be the most gorgeous bride ever, someday.

I put the Christmas wrapping paper covered lid back on top of the box and put it on the top shelf of my closet, where I wouldn’t see it again for a long, long time. I would never forget -- I could never forget -- but it was better if I didn’t remember every day. The tightness in my chest slowly began to lift away as I slid the closet door closed.

It was the only closure that I would ever get. It was the only goodbye that I would ever get.

I still loved her after she was gone, after the goodbye, and ten years later in the present -- we were invincible.