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“You think I’d pass up an opportunity to dump my semi-passable advice on you? Hell no.” He grins, hefting me up in the air when I land in his arms. “You’re way overdue.”
Warmth encases me as I hold on to him, and all I want to do is soak up his sunshine, storing it inside all my empty holes and pockets so I never grow cold, so he’s always near. “I miss you so much,” I murmur into his shirt collar. “I hate that you left me.”
“I didn’t leave you, Peach. I’m here, aren’t I?”
I let out a huff as I pull back, gazing into his steely-blue eyes. They twinkle with a galaxy of stars. “You’re just a manifestation of my subconscious.”
He scratches the nape of his neck with an acquiescent shrug. “I didn’t realize they made subconsciouses this witty and charming.” As he swipes his hair back, a small mirror appears in his hand and he gazes into it with a smile. “Wickedly handsome, too.”
A tearful laugh spills out of me. “Where are we?” I wonder as I let him go, memorizing the way his sandy freckles decorate his cheekbones.
“You tell me. This is your brain,” he replies, quirking a smile.
I look around.
The sunlit field appears endless, and the tepid breeze kisses my face just right. A rainbow arches overhead, playing peekaboo with silly-shaped clouds. They look like Super Mario characters. I smile. “I guess it doesn’t matter, as long as you’re here.”
When I glance back at Theo, he’s sprawled out on a bright-blue couch with a video game controller in his hand. His thumbs tap away at the buttons while he stares at a television that appeared out of nowhere. A grin curls in my direction. “Rainbow Road,” he says. “My favorite level.”
Mario Kart lights up the screen.
I saunter toward him, collapsing at his side and resting my head atop his shoulder. Sighing heavily, I murmur, “Everything is a mess. I’m lost without you.”
“You’re not lost,” he counters. “You’re finding your way. There’s a difference.”
“How do I know which way is right?”
He cocks his head as the game flickers across from us. “There’s no right way, Peach, and there’s no wrong way. There’s only the way you choose and what you decide to make of that choice.”
“That sounds terribly vague,” I groan.
“I told you my advice was only semi-passable.”
My muffled laugh meets his shoulder as I shift beside him. The sky starts to dim, the sun dipping behind a downy cloud, causing me to snuggle closer to Theo. “Mom and Dad are so angry right now. They’re angry at me, they’re angry at Brant. And Brant is angry with himself,” I ponder miserably, picking at the fringe on my Technicolored romper. “And the only thing I’m angry about is that everyone is so damn angry.”
“Anger is nothing but misplaced passion.”
My eyes narrow with thought. “Passion is trouble. Passion only leads to heartache.”
“Passion is meaning, and it would be a hell of an empty life without it.”
Quiet reflection passes through me as I internalize those words. I think back to all of life’s heartaches, all of life’s most trying moments, and I know exactly what sits at the root of them all.
Love.
So much love.
And for as heartbreaking as those trying moments are, I would never in a million years forfeit the love that spurred them.
I wouldn’t give up knowing Theo to spare myself the pain of his loss. I wouldn’t give up meeting Brant to prevent the fallout of our love story.
Yes.
Passion is meaning.
Passion is purpose.
And tragedy is simply the risk we take in order to experience it.
