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Would he reappear next to me, in his spirit form, only for us to relive all the events that had led up to this moment? Never truly able to be with one another? A constant, Promethean cycle, doomed to play on repeat for the rest of eternity.
I reached the middle of the song for the third time.
That was when I started to hear another whistle. Sneaking in from the other side of Jamie’s door. I carried on, whistling the rest of the song that way, accompanied by Jamie on the other side of the door. More tears streamed down my face.
He’s still alive.
Jamie’s still alive.
And he’s still here with me.
The knob started to turn, and the door flung back. Tears streaked his beautiful face, nose red, eyes puffy. We finished whistling the song together that way, staring at each other through clouded vision which had never been so clear.
“You’re still here with me,” I breathed when our song came to an end.
“I never stepped away from the door.” He inched toward me.
“No?” My words squeaked through my sobs.
“No. How could I?” he asked. “How could I… when the entire time you’ve been here… I couldn’t get so many strange things out of my mind? So many images, like dreams. Of our house, for starters… with a river that flowed upward.”
“Full of lanterns in the sky that came crashing down.” I took a step to him and our arms linked.
“You see it, too?” he asked, shaking his head, and looking off into the distance, as if trying to reorganize the thoughts rushing through his brain. His eyebrows scrunched. “And… a trip to IKEA…”
“Holding me tight while I cried. Telling me that grief didn’t only including grieving over the deceased. Reading my mind and knowing me better than I know myself.”
“What did you say?” His eyes shined with recognition, his grip over me tightening. “Jesus Christ… Jesus fucking Christ…”
“Do you remember now?” I asked.
“This is all… real,” he said, words full of astonishment. “Things that have happened… with guardian angels named Angie who give you the most cryptic of messages… letting go of your anger will set you free… your future is your past… now, I understand. I understand what she meant.”
“Huh?” I asked.
“I’ll explain that part later,” he said. “Oh, do I have a lot to tell you. But first…”
His mouth widened, a giant grin spreading across his face. He walked us back into his apartment, lips falling over me repeatedly, as he shut the door and guided us inside his space. This time, however, we moved through the den and toward the bedroom.
“So, you remember all of it now?” I breathed in between kisses.
“All of it,” he said. “Hanging myself and regretting it the moment I wasn’t here. Hearing your voice and wanting so desperately to reach you. To save you from the same pain.” He gazed at me, eyes tight on mine. “Saving the girl. Or, trying to, anyway.”
“Oh, you saved her alright.”
“Until you turned around and saved me.” His voice grew soft as he planted another kiss against my mouth. “I also remember… a shower where the water doesn’t hit you.”
“With the man you love so much, you vow you’ll never let him go. Even if he’s passed on to the other side, and you never have any way of talking to him again.”
“With the woman you never let go of, even when you thought you had.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. “God, it’s so good to feel you again the way I want to,” he breathed.
He took my hand as we entered his bedroom. We crossed to the bed, and I leaned back against the mattress as he fell over top of me.
From my angle, I noticed the rope sticking out from his closet, and I froze.
“Jems, it’s okay,” he said, gently placing a kiss against my cheek. I gazed back at him, his curly hair dangling over his face. “I promise you, I won’t ever do something so stupid.”
“Good. But I want you to promise me something, too.”
