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“The groceries are going to spoil if we leave them out much longer.” I don’t know what else to say. It’s stupid, but my concern about the food scattered all over the kitchen is what came out. Putting away the groceries is much easier to rationalize than anything involving Matt Norman.
“I’ll take care of it.” Noah leans in and kisses me.
I close my eyes, keeping them shut long after her contact leaves me. I lean my head back and attempt to ease the throbbing ache piercing my skull by thinking about happier times.
Sunday and I learned to ride bikes together on the grass of my front lawn. We snuck out as young kids through our bedroom windows to meet up late at night and toilet-paper houses. As teenagers, we went on double dates together and skipped school to hang out in the local movie theater. We grew up and built a business together. Our lives were completely interconnected since I could remember.
I used to roll my eyes when she would say things like, “Best friends forever!” and doodle the acronym during her younger years.
Now, I’d give anything to hear her say it again.
I allow myself to ignore the text from my mom, only today, and sit and stew over Matt’s actions. I let my heart bleed out while I think about what Sunday went through in her last few minutes here on Earth. In my head, I throw one hell of a giant pity party, and then I decide that, when the sun goes down, I will let it go. I can’t allow Matt to ruin two lives, maybe even more, by my own self-sabotage. It’s time for me to find my own closure, like Noah did with Catherine.
Why?
Because I’m here and Sunday isn’t.
She’d kick me in the balls if she could see me now.
I have that girl in the kitchen, the one who would do anything to make things better for me, and if I didn’t live out my life to the fullest with Noah, Sunday would kill me.
I can make the choice not to let this drag me down, but I’ll always miss my friend.
Tomorrow, I’m going to live my life for me, for Noah, and for Sunday.
