Part of Your Heart

March 2012 

"Come back here, little man," Matt said cautiously, holding out his arms. My nineteen-month-old son cackled with child-like laughter as he took off as quickly as he could away from Matt. The honey-eyed man sighed, dropping his arms, and shot me a glare. "Your kid is a handful."

All I could do was smile. Out of all of his 'uncles,' Gaje seemed to enjoy wearing Matt out the most. "Maybe you should tell Johnny to stop giving him Mountain Dew," I suggested.

"He's already got too much Jimmy in him," Brian put in. I frowned. "The sugar defintely doesn't help."

I got up from my seat with a huff. Brian's careless mention of my late husband had gotten me upset, just as it usually did. The boys had all but gotten over the death of their drummer and best friend. I knew they'd never truly get over him, but they'd been able to move on with their lives. Matt and Brittany were having a baby, Zacky and Gena had gotten married, Johnny and Lacey had gotten engaged. But me…I was trapped in my own little world. A fishbowl, if you will, from which I watched my friends grow and live while I remained hopelessly trapped in my past.

"Mama!" Gaje squealed, latching onto my leg. Matt was chasing after him, arms outstretched and fingers wiggling. I scooped the toddler into my arms and he buried his face in the curve of my neck. "Mattie no no!"

"Leave him alone, Matt," I fretted, swatting at the frontman. "Aren't you supposed to be rehearsing anyway?"

"Arin's not here," Matt replied simply. He gave Gaje one last tickle and the boy squealed in my ear, much to my chagrin. "We can't start until he gets here."

As if summoned by Matt's words, the young drummer stepped into the venue, calling out to everyone. Since Arin had joined Avenged Sevenfold back in 2010, he and I had danced a rather awkward dance. We tiptoed around one another; he felt strange around me because I was Jimmy's widow, and I held an almost distasteful impression of him because he was replacing Jimmy. But he was a nice boy. He was extremely well-rounded and down-to-earth, and he had a nice head on his shoulders. Gaje seemed to like him as well, and that was the ultimate test in my book.

"Hello Roison," Arin said with a wary smile. I returned his greeting, bouncing Gaje in my arms. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought Gaje in to play with the boys," I stated. "It gets kind of--" It gets kind of lonely at home. I broke off my sentence, not wanting to voice my desperation for companionship at home. Arin's features scrunched up in confusion, but I simply waved him off.

While Arin joined the boys in their rehearsal area, I took Gaje into the room where the girls were assembled. Everyone was sitting around the large sofa, fawning over Brittany's swollen stomach or Lacey's engagement ring. I felt a pang in my stomach. I didn't wear my wedding band anymore; I felt it was unnecessary. After all, I had Jimmy's name tattooed around my ring finger. But there were times when I wished I still had a reason to wear it.

"Roison, bring little Sullivan over here!" Brittany ordered, holding out her arms for my son. Gaje squirmed in my arms as I handed him to my friend, but he quickly relaxed against the swell of her belly.

"When do you get to find out what you're having?" Lacey asked.

"Next week," Brittany said with a smile, rubbing her stomach. She and Matt really deserved this baby. It was the result of months of trying, and to the two of them, it was a miracle. "I hope it's a little boy so Gaje can have someone to play with!"

I smiled weakly. God knows Gaje wouldn't be getting any playmates from me. I'd never even thought of touching another man, because Jimmy was the only one I could ever imagine being intimate with. So aside from the possibility of artificial insimination, there was no way I could have another child myself.

"Have you got any names picked out?" Gena asked curiously. 

Brittany shook her head. "Matt and I decided to wait and find out what we're having first," she said with a smile. "Matt's so excited. He can't wait to be a daddy."

"Dada?" Gaje chirped, excited at the sound of this foreign word. My stomach dropped out. No, now was not the time for that. He was so young…there was no possible way I could explain that to him yet. "Me dada?" my son repeated, looking to me with curious blue eyes.

I could feel everyone's eyes burning into my skin. They were waiting for my response, but my mind was choking; I couldn't think of a single intelligable word to utter. So with tears burning my eyes, I scooped my young son from my friend's lap and hurried out of the studio. I made sure to break free of the main doors before I released my tears, and as they rolled down my cheeks, Gaje studied me with wide eyes. I felt awful for exposing him to this side of my emotions. I was supposed to be strong for him, and here I was breaking down before his innocent eyes.

"Mama?" he said quietly. He reached out to touch my tear-stained cheek; this conjured a weak smile on my face. "Otay?"

"Yes baby, Mama's fine," I lied, wiping at my eyes. "Are you ready to go home, little man? I think it's time for your nap."

♪•♫•♪•♫•♪•♫•♪•♫•♪

I rolled the remote control listlessly from hand to hand. There was absolutely nothing on tv, and that had been my plans for the afternoon. I'd been watching an abnormally large amount of television since Jimmy had left, but that was the only way I could think to pass my time. If I was consumed with the fictional lives of others, I had no time to dwell on the shattered remains of my own.

When Jimmy was alive, the two us rarely watched television. We'd sit down to try, but would usually ended up preoccupied with something else. We were just two people, young and in love, with too much passion for each other to be interested in the television. 

With a sigh, I switched off the television and sat the remote to the side. I leaned back against the couch and ran my hands back through my hair, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried hard not to cry. I felt stupid crying now, two years after the fact. Jimmy had been gone for two years, and in my mind I should be over that by now. I should be letting go like all the others.

But they had a lot less to let go of.

Feeling particularly nostalgic, I ventured upstairs to my bedroom, and from there to the small closet on the opposite wall. Tucked away on the top shelf, buried beneath various papers, was a small wooden box. I dumped the contents of the box onto the coffee table. The pictures inside chronicled my life since I'd met Jimmy, nearly eight years ago. I was young back then - only twenty - but I knew as soon as Jimmy spoke his first words to me that I loved him. 

My favorite picture lay at the bottom of the stack, and I'd placed it in a small plastic baggie to shelter it from the elements. The picture was, of course, of Jimmy and I, and a rather close up one at that. His lips were pressed to my cheek, and there was a wide, laughing smile on my face. I bit back a sigh. I hadn't smiled like that in over two years.  

The knock at the front door startled me from my thoughts. Quickly collecting myself, I made my way slowly over to the door. I was expecting it to be one of my friends, and they could wait for disturbing me when I was waist deep in my memories. Imagine my surprise then, when I found Arin standing on my front stoop, looking quite awkward.

"My friends sent you, didn't they?" I asked flatly, handed poised to close the door in his face. My current behavior was quite rude, but right now I couldn't quite bring myself to care.

"No actually…I thought I'd come and check on you myself," Arin answered, smiling weakly. "You seemed kinda upset when you left."

All I could do was nod. Upset didn't even begin to describe how I'd been feeling when I ran out of the studio this morning. Distraught was more fitting. "Would you like to come inside, Arin?" I asked. "Gaje is taking a nap and I'd like some company."

"I don't wanna impose," Arin said uneasily. Still, I insisted that the younger man come inside and he crossed my threshold, his gaze immediately landing on the photos still scattered around the coffee table. "You making a scrapbook or something?"

"Oh no, I-I'm not," I stuttered. My shaking hands went for the photos, but in my haste I knocked that most precious one onto the floor at Arin's feet. He bent down to retrieve it, and when he finally got a good look at him, his eyes softened. 

"Roison--" he started, but I cut him off with a hand. I hated this, I hated it so much. I'd just been caught doing the one thing I'd wanted to keep to myself: reminiscing. Now Arin would run and tell the others what I did when I was home alone; he would tell that after all this time, I was still pining for my dear, sweet Jimmy.

And then I started to cry; very softly and minutely, but there were tears. I pawed at my eyes with one hand and with the other snatched the photo from Arin's grasp. I stared at it until Jimmy's photographic ghost went blurry through my wellng tears; until I felt Arin's hand on my shoulder, shaking me back to life.

"I-I'm sorry," I whispered. "I just…I-I…" But I didn't know what else to say. Then it hit me and the words tumbled past my lips. "I still miss him so much."

"I understand," was all Arin said in response. "I-I lost my girlfriend a while back, but she didn't um, die."

It made me a bit angry that Arin was trying to compare Jimmy's death to a petty breakup, but I said nothing. I knew he was only trying to help me, and I couldn't yell at him for that. I sat down heavily on the couch and began placing the photos back into the wooden box. My memories would be safer stashed away in my closet, far away from prying eyes. 

"Well, are you gonna sit down or are you just gonna stand there?" I asked Arin as I set the box to the side. He took a seat next to me on the couch, albeit a bit further away than one of my closer friends would have. He was giving me a look that I knew very well. It was the look of sympathy, the look that meant he thought my misery was somehow contagious. "I'm sorry about all of that. I just…well, you know."

"You know, I really don't think I do," he stated. "I mean, I can pretend I do. But…I've never lost someone as close to me as Jimmy was to you. Stephanie…she just left. I could have her back any time I want. You can never have Jimmy back."

You can never have Jimmy back. I'd never heard it put so bluntly, and yet…it strangely made me feel a bit better. Finally instead of being coddled and indulged, I was being told the cold, hard truth.

I opened my mouth to speak, but was promptly cut off by shrill screams from upstairs. I offered Arin a soft-spoken apology before trudging upstairs to my son's room. He stood in his crib, hands clutching the bars, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. I scooped him up into my arms and then headed back downstairs. Not surprisingly, Arin was gone by the time I got back, but I noticed a piece of paper sitting atop the wooden box. I snatched it up before Gaje's chubby hand had a chance to, and sent my son off to play with his plethura of toys before unfolding the note.

Roison,

Sorry I had to leave so unexpectedly. The guys needed me back at the studio to rework a few things. I just thought I'd leave you a note so you wouldn't think I got kidnapped or something. 

And Roison, if you ever need anyone to talk to - about Jimmy or anything else - I'm always here.

-- Arin