Love Alone

I sit on the hot cement and stare blankly at the water. I feel a drop of sweat roll down the side of my face and onto the cement. The hot air makes it hard to breathe and it feels like I’m suffocating. I haven’t been to this spot in weeks, but today is the only day I can come. I think about the past two weeks I’ve spent sharing memories with his family. For a while I was happy, just talking about him. As I told the stories I remembered what it was like to be around him. It was like I could feel his presence as I talked about him. I could feel his joy, his love, his excitement, his sorrow. With every story I told he came back to life.

But now I’m out of stories. I know I have more, but I just can’t remember them. Why is it so hard to remember? I need to remember. I need those memories to bring him back to life so I can feel his love once again. I can feel the love I have for him, but I can’t feel his love for me anymore. It’s like I’m in love alone.

I feel a sharp pain in my chest and I place my hand there wondering what it is. I’ve never felt this before. What’s going on? A few weeks ago I felt like I had a whole in my chest and I was empty. As I spoke of him I felt like I was complete again, like his love filled the gap. Now there’s something there and it’s in pain.

I’m in pain.

I can’t remember much about the time we spent together, but I don’t feel empty or sad. It hurts so much. What’s going on? I quickly get up and notice how easily I can stand. I no longer feel like I’m lugging around something heavy. I sit back down and the pain erupts. I start crying uncontrollably and bury my face into my hands. What’s happening? Is this what its like to be in love alone? To have so much love, but have no one to give it to?

“Gina.” I hear a voice call my name. How does she always find me? I look up and find Tyler standing by the water. My heart skips a beat and my hands start shaking.

There he is in a checkered shirt, jeans and nice sneakers. He takes his hands out of his pockets and runs one hand through his curly hair. He looks over at me and smiles. I take one step towards him and suddenly a girl runs past me. She brushes past my shoulder and meets Tyler with a hug, her long brown hair bouncing around. What’s going on? I watch closely and then the girl takes a step back from him and turns around.

“What are you looking at?” She looks over at where I’m standing and I recognize her face. The girl . . . she’s me.

“Oh nothing,” Tyler responds and looks away from where I’m standing. I watch both of them from a few paces away. Then it hits me, this is just a memory of mine coming back to life. I continue watching the ghost like figures of Tyler and myself, wondering what happens next.

“I heard about your parents divorce. How are you doing?” She—I sit down and stare into the reflection of the clouds on the water. He sits down next to me and puts his arm around my shoulder.

I remember this day now.

“I found out a few weeks ago and at first I didn’t know how to react, later I got really sad. Now I’m just hurting, but I think it’s because I’m starting to let go of the idea that my parents would be together forever.”

“I don’t understand. I thought that letting go would make you happier?”

“I have this theory that people don’t want to let go because they are afraid to face the pain that comes with it. It’s really hard to accept the reality that we will not spend holidays together anymore, but it’s the way it has to be. I don’t like the idea one bit, but in this case I’m just going to accept it.”

“Accept it? Why don’t you try to convince your parents to stay together?”

“They aren’t happy together anymore and I think they’re done pretending just so they can stay together. Some relationships are complicated like that; I figured them out the other day.”

He goes on and talks about his parents with me and eventually I—the past me—get up and walk away. He stays behind and throws rocks into the water. I sit and watch his memory because I get the strange feeling this is the last time I will ever get to see him like this. I doubt I’ll ever be able to tell another story in which he comes back to life. I think this is the last one. I’ll never feel his love or his presence again. I watch Tyler’s ghost like memory as he slowly starts to disappear. The pain in my chest acts up again and I start crying.

He’s gone, for good this time.