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And the third image makes me blush. In this piece, we are topless. Lips locked. Bodies crushed together. Hands in the other’s hair and groping body parts. This was us. Exposed and vulnerable and losing ourselves in one another. And the night we lost our virginity. A night that will be forever engraved in my memory. Not just the physicality, but also the way his eyes softened and his breath caught and my name rolled off his tongue.
The more I stare at the drawings, the harder the tears fall. Before too many hit the pages, I swipe them away and fold up the pages. The unfinished page stays attached to the pad—a picture of me now. More like a silhouette. Because all I feel is darkness. Nothingness.
Grabbing one of my school notebooks, I open it to a blank page and write a letter to Gavin. One I hope he reads.
Gavin,
Today is our two-year anniversary. And all I want to do is talk to you. But we haven’t talked in so long. Now, I am just empty inside. Lifeless. Moving to California wasn’t your fault. You hate it. I hate it. And there is nothing we can do about it.
I called your house earlier and your Dad told me you stayed over at a friend’s house. I’m happy you’ve made new friends out there. And I’m happy you seem to be moving on without me.
I won’t bore you with my life. Because it’s one big shit show on my end. Maybe I’ll start my meds again, so at least I experience some form of happiness. Even if it is fake. Fake is better than nothing at all. Right?
Inside this envelope are three drawings of happier times. After this, I may just burn all my art supplies. Because anything worth capturing doesn’t exist anymore. Not since you left. Not since you stopped talking with me.
Why? Why have you stopped talking with and writing me? Did you find someone else already? Was I that easy to forget? Am I not even worth friendship?
I hate myself. I hate my life. Hate that I have given you my heart and you’ve stomped on it until it turned to dust.
Does your heart feel like a black hole? Because mine does. It feels like this dark, hollow place that sucks all the happiness from the world and demolishes it.
It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it does. You. Me. Us. Who were we to think we would see each other again? We’re fools. Or at least I’m a fool. Because I believed we would. Believed this separation was a temporary blip in our relationship. Something easily fixed after a little patience.
But it seems I was wrong.
Because it feels like you have moved on without me. Left me to rot with the garbage.
And I’m done. Done spending every second of every day wondering what you’re doing. If you care or think about me still. It’s pretty obvious what the answer is, especially if you never speak to me. This situation sucks, but I never imagined you’d do this to me. Ghost me.
So, goodbye Gavin. It was my privilege to love you. And maybe one day in the future, I will get the chance again. God, I hope so. Because I will never love anyone the way I love you. If I’m honest, I don’t ever want to love anyone else. I’d rather die alone, miserable and frail.
I hope you read this and it makes your heart hurt the same as mine. I hope it makes you shed as many tears as I have. And I hope you find it in your heart to come back to me one day.
Because I will always love you. Forever.
Tu es les étoiles de ma lune.
Cora
I fold the paper into thirds and set it with the drawings as I search the house for a large envelope. When I locate one, I shove the drawings and letter inside, addressing it to Gavin and slapping on too many stamps. A minute later, I walk to the mailbox and place the envelope inside, raising the red flag.
As I walk away from the envelope, I settle into my new reality. A reality where Gavin and Cora don’t exist. A reality where love dies and hearts shatter into millions of little fragments. And a reality where nothing matters, because what is the point. What. Is. The. Point?
Thirteen
Gavin
Present
I stare off in the distance as my Range Rover is loaded into a freight box with a few boxes of my clothes inside the car. The car should arrive at Micah’s house tomorrow evening. My SUV being loaded and shipped has reality setting in. And my nerves zapping like live wires.
This is really happening. I am going home.
Gavin: Car with three boxes inside should be at your place tomorrow night.
Micah: Cool. I’ll let you know when it arrives. What time is your flight tomorrow?
Gavin: 10am, with a stop in Houston. Should be in Tampa between 7-7:30pm.
