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“Don’t you though?” Jamie asked. “I say this as someone who cares about you. But I also say this as the spirit sent here to be your life guide. Just because someone isn’t dead, doesn’t mean you don’t grieve them when they’re suddenly no longer in your life. That could arguably be as painful as if the person actually did die.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I also know from personal experience,” he said. “When I lost you… I grieved over you more than any other person to ever exit my life and never come back.” He took a breath, his chest rising and falling against my head. “And, dear, if I may… you’re grieving over three different people. For different reasons. That’s why life has been so hard for you. Grief is hard.”
“You said there was arguably a fourth person. That I was grieving over.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Your mother.”
“My mother?”
“She means well. But she shut down on you when your dad passed. You needed to talk about what happened, and she never gave you that outlet. Or helped you process what had happened by getting you therapy. You were only a kid.”
“She stops by… and calls…”
“I mean her no disrespect, Jems. But ask yourself… have you ever really gotten the kind of love from her you think you should be getting?”
His words sunk in as I processed what he said. About my mother. About grieving over three different people, one of which was still a living person. I attempted to think through everything, but the dull ache in my head throbbed.
“I’m so tired, Jamie,” I breathed.
“I know, honey. I know.” He stroked my face, and I fell more deeply into his embrace. “I’m here for you now. The way I should’ve been before.”
The pain sat in my chest regardless of how logically Jamie’s words resonated in my mind. Grief was hard, yes. I understood this. But I’d lived with the depression for so long, I couldn’t imagine a time when I would be free of that. If grief was really all this was, then wasn’t it supposed to go away?
“I’m never going to be free,” I said. “That’s why the dad needs to die. In this book I’m writing. Because my character needs to know that pain the same way I do. That’s the whole point. The pain never ends.”
“I disagree with you there,” he said. “The pain can end. With the right connections in your life…”
“You’re the connection I want, Jamie. The only one I need. And I have to let you go. Eventually… I have to let you go.”
“You’re wrong again, Jems,” he whispered. “No matter how far away I am… I’ll always be with you in your heart. And you’ll always be with me in mine. Leaving you doesn’t mean I’m gone. You keep our connection alive in your soul.”
He placed a hand flat against the area of my chest in front of my heart, an exposed area above the material of my V-neck shirt. Instinctively, I curled my fingers around the back of his hand. Energy buzzed in front of my heart, a surge of happy, loving emotions rushing into the area around my solar plexus.
Neither of us said a word after that. We sat together, my tears still falling as he held me.
“Do you want to go home, Jems?” Jamie asked eventually. “We can come back another day. If you don’t feel up to being here now.”
“No. I said I would get this furniture, and I want to.” I wiped my eyes. “Let’s just… get the rest. Then go home, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And, uh, Jamie. Let’s grab the number for this sofa. I like it.”
* * *
“I wish I could help you lift those boxes.” Jamie smiled at me sadly as he stood next to my Nissan Rogue. A grey sky hung above, a certain brightness against the black tar of the parking lot. Mist sprinkled down on us as I slid the furniture boxes into my trunk.
Three boxes total.The two slim, yet substantial, brown boxes I had contained the pieces for both the desk (in the first box) and the entertainment unit for the TV. I had a third box—the Samsung TV I’d decided on. The rest of it—the desk chair and sofa—needed to be delivered separately, but I’d set a time for that next week. As I sat in the IKEA warehouse, filling out the paperwork and scheduling a time for them to drop off my stuff, I wondered if Jamie would be there to see the new furniture.
Or if he’d be gone by the time they delivered.
He said he’d stay until I found my light. Until he saved me. But saving me didn’t mean the pain no longer being here. So, how would I know when it was time for him to go?
“I’ll tell you when I’m going to leave. Before I go,” Jamie said now, as I slid the final box—the TV—into the trunk of my car. Between the TV and the other two boxes in the hatchback trunk, I’d never seen my car so filled.
“You will?” I asked.
