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After tossing and turning for most of the night, I’d managed to fall asleep around two in the morning. No matter the position I lay in, being alone in it made sleeping nearly impossible. Moving the extra pillow from over my face revealed that morning had arrived and nothing had changed. I hadn’t been dreaming. Hayes was gone.
Laying on my back, I watched a daddy long-legs spider hanging upside down from the rafters of the shack. I’d read once that daddy long-legs were more closely related to scorpions than spiders. Laying beneath one suddenly seemed scarier than it had a minute prior. “All alone too, huh?” I whispered.
The screen door was open as usual and I could see gray skies and feel a slight breeze. Memaw would have sniffed the air and made a determination about the chance of rain. I simply picked up my cell phone and read we had a thirty percent chance that day.You’re no fun, Bo.
I debated getting up and decided there was no reason to do that. I wouldn’t be trapping today. I wouldn’t be cleaning up outside and burning the storm debris. I wouldn’t be showering, probably. I wouldn’t be eating today. Why bother with a whole host of tasks I could be doing. He wasn’t here anymore.
I thought about the days and weeks after Jamie had left for college, and how I didn’t think it possible to survive such pain. The twenty-four hour a day stomach nausea lasted for weeks and kept me dwelling in my misery on whatever surface I had managed to drag myself to. Listening as the wall clock counted the minutes I was able to measure every single moment of hurt. For weeks after Jamie left me, I walked through life with a dull ache that never seemed to go away, until one day, the hurt was a little more bearable, and then another, and then another. After spending many days watching the pages on the calendar turn, I had finally started to feel like I was okay. Almost.
I knew the stages of grief quite well and now found myself wondering if I could get through another loss this time around. Me and Hayes were different from my first love. I’d matured and he was older, I was open to possibilities again and so was he. Love gives you hope when you think you’d never find love again, but experience also gives you warnings as you gleefully follow the path, ignoring the risks. I had willingly ignored all of my inner-voice messages because I chose to believe I was lovable.
I dragged my feet off of the bed and placed them on the floor while I bent over and laid my head on my knees. I was weak from lack of food and water. I was worn-out and felt the exhaustion in my bones. Even my marrow was tired. I looked up at the spider. “I can’t do this,” I whispered. Tears slid down my face, traveling paths of least resistance before splashing to the wooden floors and forming the world’s tiniest puddles. “You promised you loved me,” I mumbled, tears and slobber forming in the corners of my mouth. It had been days with no word.
I stared through the screen door and at the river while my head lay sideways on my knee. The water was dark and gray like the sky, like my heart. I knew I was alive because my stomach growled its need for food. Five days had gone by, so of course my stomach had the right to complain. I just didn’t think I could make it ten feet to the fridge. Perhaps I didn’t want to.
Love is cruel. One day you’re planning a future with a person that fits you like a glove, and then in the blink of an eye, you’re alone. Yet, we keep signing up for the ride because what a thrill thelove rideis. I’d fallen hard and I’d fallen fast. Funny that nobody tells you about the what-ifs. No one bothers to educate you about how loss feels. We spend hours and hours talking about the joys of being in love, hell, we even write thousands of songs about love, but we never include the needed advice about when it ends. But what really sucked about all of this was I’d been there once before. I knew the risks of love and blindly ignored every single lesson I’d learned.
And yet, I knew I’d try again. The pain I felt now was the worst of the worst, but the highs of being in love made even this bearable. “Yeah, right,” I muttered, standing and looking around my home. I didn’t have much when Hayes had arrived and he’d brought nothing with him to begin with, so why did my place look emptier than it ever had?
I went to the bathroom and sat down on the toilet even though I only had to take a piss. Truth was, I lacked the strength or the desire to stand and take careful aim. I reached the three feet away and gripped the sink’s edge, pulling me upright and leaning into the mirror above the sink. “Jesus, Bo! You look like shit, dude,” I said.
I stared at my reflection and watched as my eyes welled up past the point of containment. My vision blurred and I crumpled to the floor sobbing uncontrollably. Maybe Icouldn’tmake it this time. Maybe I’d risked too much this time. This time. This time. There can’t be anotherthis time.
Conceivably, I’d laid on the floor for an hour, possibly a minute. Who knew, but a knock on the screen door woke me from the only relief I could get, sleep. I lifted my head, expending as little energy as possible, just in case I’d imagined the sound of knocking. I stared in wonder at the outline through the screen. “Hello?” I whispered. More tears and more blurred vision. “Memaw?” I cried.
Another knock. The sounds were real. I was awake. “Hello,” I hollered weakly. “Hello,” I repeated, managing to get to my knees and crawling to the bathroom door. I stuck my head out and tried to focus on the screen door.
“Bo,” he cried. “Oh my God, Bo.”
The screen door came flying into the room, splintering in two and spraying dust and wood everywhere. I fell on my face, exhausted and convinced I was hallucinating.
He was across the room in seconds, falling to his knees and pulling me onto his lap. “Bo, baby. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he wept, cradling my head in his lap. “I’m here, Bo. I’m here, and I am never leaving your side again,” he cried.
“You’re really here?” I asked, sobbing uncontrollably. “You came back?”
Hayes peppered my face with kisses and rubbed at the corners of my eyes. “I told you I would. I promised you, baby.”
I felt a peace come over me and I drifted away, being drawn toward the quiet.
“He loves you, Bobo,” Memaw said. We were floating on a boat that had no oars, no motor. I peeked over the edge and stared down into nothingness.
“I miss you, Memaw,” I said, no sound coming from me.
She smiled and reached for my hand.
“Are you real?” I asked.
“I am, my child,” she replied, her lips not moving.
I watched as Memaw stepped from the boat and walked a fair distance away. She stopped and turned back. “You’ll never be alone again.”
Soft pressure on my forehead woke me and I opened my eyes slowly.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Hayes said. “Where were you, my love?”
“Are you real?” I whispered, rubbing my eyes.
“I am,” he answered. “You didn’t think I’d leave you behind, did you?”
