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“Let’s both agree to go on the same day.” My throat aches; it burns as I say the words.
“You are going to look in that mirror until the image gets cloudy from your tears, but you and I will sit there and face what scares us most. We aren’t going to keep running. We will confront the woman who makes us strong, who makes us come alive. We are going to get through this. Because I love you, and I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but if it isn’t you, then I hope the night never fades and the new day is never born.” Enzo’s arms tighten around me, shielding me from the grim reaper.
I put my hand on his arm and held him too.
“I can’t have this be our ending. Give me a few more seconds to convince you how much love I can give. How much weight I can hold. A soul lost to uncertainty is a heart broken in clarity.” His words make my mind light; my body is heavy from revival.
“Let’s bleed together. Promise me you’ll leave the last drop for me? If you ask me to bury you in a national forest, I will. But I will be digging a grave for two. Because anywhere you put down roots, I bloom too.” Enzo wipes my face; he burrows his love into my eyes and then kisses me like we’ve found each other after a long time.
“I’m going somewhere. Anywhere but here, Phoebe. Are you going to come with me?” Enzo’s forehead presses into my cheek, his tears continue, and so do mine, but we aren’t mourning anymore. We are rejoicing in a new rotation.
I kiss his head. “Anywhere Enzo is, Phoebe is too. That’s how we find the good echoes.”
Enzo reaches to turn the shower back on; once the heat hits my skin, it burns beautifully. He reaches for the shampoo, wraps my long black hair into a ball, and massages it. His eyes are flick back to mine, making sure I am still with him. I am.
The water rinses out the soapy bubbles from my hair; I lean my head back, letting the stream hit my face, washing away the tears I’ve shed. Enzo’s hands go for the conditioner while I take the body wash and erase the smell of the bile and pills.
We stay under the flow until the hot water runs low. Our tongues don’t force words; the language we speak to each other is through mirrored intimate touches. Enzo wraps me in a towel. He sits me on the bed and goes to my bag to get me clothes. When I look down at my ankle, there is a swirl of soap lingering.
“Look, Enzo.” As I am about to wipe it away, he stops me, kneels in front of me.
“It looks like Sakura flower. My mom would always show us pictures of when she was a little girl. They are cherry blossoms in Japan that bloom in spring. A symbol of fresh starts and new beginnings. Everything we need as a sign of hope.” Those brown eyes find mine, and he leans forward and kisses me, willing a promise to my lips.
Kenzo
35.3304° N, 139.9025° E Kimitsu, Japan
OneYearLater
It takes fourteen hours non-stop to fly to Tokyo. My mother and father are with us. We are attending one of my cousin’s traditional Japanese weddings. But of course, we couldn’t do it without exploring first.
“Phoebe, what do you think?” I come out of the dressing room, wearing silk robes.
“Impressive. Now, what about me?” She comes out, anddamn, someone call the fire department because she is on fire.
“I can see every outline in that kimono.” I walk over to her, letting my hands roam her nice ass, her breasts. Phoebe’s beautiful, and I am a lucky guy.
Phoebe went to therapy twice a week for six months. She shared her story with others and gave them hope, peace, and a place to belong. I love her now every new day I get to spend with her. We found out a few months ago she miscarried.
But it didn’t crush her like I thought it might set her back. It gave her a glow like she saw the possibilities for the future. She has been stronger than me some days; I had to confront my own demons in therapy. But we are there for each other, side by side.
Things have changed; I moved to Colorado to live with her. We bought our first house together out of the city, where we could have a dog and grow a family. My mother was so happy to call her a daughter. We haven’t tied the knot yet; maybe one day. Right now, we are focusing on how to bring the best versions of ourselves forward and be grateful for how far we’ve come while being optimistic about where we can go.
Phoebe has inspired millions with her photography. But she has inspired me by her willpower. There are days that I see her fade just a little bit, and I worry it might get worse. But then she usually sits me down and tells me it’s okay to have bad days. Tomorrow will be different. It’s okay to be sad; happiness all of the time isn’t the solution. Her wellbeing is what is essential, and her listening to her body and mind is the best advice the therapist gave her.
We go on walks every morning and every night. First for therapy, but now it’s our thing. We talk about the past; we talk about the present. We argue about what names we might name our kids someday. But we aren’t afraid to face each other. We don’t run the other way when the other person says something we don’t like.
I can see her coming back to life more and more. She isn’t the same Phoebe; she is an upgraded version. She holds her head high and is so humble all at the same time. To be honest, after finding her in the bathroom, I’ve changed too. I had a lot to confront, and I would wake up in the night just to watch her and make sure she was sleeping.
Fears change us. Some we can embrace, while others are meant to shift our focus.
Phoebe and I aren’t worried about what forever holds for us. Because we are the ones who get to decide in the end if there will be a bright and happy beginning in our story. There isn’t an end, just another chapter. We keep going and going until our children take over our story with their own.
I love Phoebe; my love for her has grown. But what I love most is seeing the love for herself grow. And that’s all I can ask for.
“Enzo? What’s on your mind?” Phoebe reaches up and tickles my neck with her fingers.
“You. As always, how annoying, right?” I roll my eyes then kiss her.
