Terrible Things

Wedding bells rang through the wind, the sound of merry celebration being muffled by aged brick walls.

Walnut-colored eyes gaze upon the sky, the wind blowing against the grass, kissing his skin. A warm, shaky tear flows down his pale face. As Rich beams at the passing clouds, no sun in sight, his heart aches at what could have been. He remembers the spring of last year, sitting in this very spot. Had her parents not interfered, would he have lived through a similar euphoria that was going through inside the church behind him? Would their first kiss as a married couple feel any different? Would it have felt like the first time, a celestial high that no drug could ever compare to? Would his stomach practically explode with an overwhelming bliss as he listened to the sound of wedding bells and the cheers of their friends? Would his skin felt like it was on fire as her gentle, loving hands caressed his cheeks?

He missed her so much. Her radiant smile, her gentle voice, the sound of her elated laughter, the way her body moved so elegantly on stage, and her vivacious personality. There wasn’t another girl like her – someone that wouldn’t give up on finding their way inside the stubborn walls he’s built. There wasn’t another girl like her – that saw past his metalhead exterior, melted his cold attitude but still loved him for who he was; no change needed.

Sometimes he wished he never fell for Grace Violet Blood.

Maybe then, his heart still wouldn’t feel like millions of flaming swords stabbing through his heart, melting away in pain. He wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night, warm and heavy, craving her touch again. He wouldn’t hate every little thing in the world that reminded him of her. His eyes wouldn’t feel so fatigued from endless nights of lack of sleep, too afraid to allow himself to dream of her; because her smile, her laughter, her kisses wouldn’t be real. He wouldn’t crave the touch of her supple lips against his chapped ones and the way her hands would magnetically caress his face. Rich almost wished he had amnesia. Maybe then, that ache that haunts his chest from all the terrible things would never exist.

The truth was, falling in love with Grace Violet Blood was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Because the way she made him feel was astronomical, and she did it so effortlessly. All it took was a smile, a loving stare from her chocolate-colored eyes, a finger sparsely dancing against his skin, a whisper of his name, and his heart would beat a mile a minute. She wasn’t fooled with his metalhead attitude and was more than willing to jump into the mosh pit with him. She opened a new world for him, one with great friends and even greater memories. Grace was more than Rich’s stars and moon. The truth was that she was his sun – his light and warmth that glistened through his rainy days.

And when she died, it was like an eclipse. His light was dimmed, his heart feeling cold and dark, filled with emptiness. So he keeps staring at the sky, wondering if he could truly move forward without his sunshine guiding him. But as Rich closes his eyes, tears clouding his lashes, he feels a warmth he longed for. The heavenly clouds revealing the sun, shining above him like a beacon of hope. The carob-haired teen lets out a buoyant chuckle, relishing in the sun once more.

Rich’s heart might ache for now, but he knows terrible things pass, and he’ll be stronger.