People who believe happiness is something that’s always in their reach, I wonder how happy they must really be? I find myself to be nervous when I am too happy. In my eyes, happiness is as delicate as a bubble. The moment someone was to touch that bubble carrying the light of a rainbow around them, it will burst. In front of happiness, I give up before even reaching out my hand.
The sound of the pouring rain surrounds me as I cling onto this thought while making my way through the busy streets of New York City. The smell of fresh roses tickles my nose and I can’t help but lift my head, despite the poor weather, to see a flower shop across the street. People continue to shove past me to reach their destination as I’m taken back to a place where everything was okay. Where everything was fine. Struggling amidst the crowd to walk across the street I reached the flower shop and peered in through the glass windows. Looking in I noticed the array of flowers the store had to offer. A dainty bell rang in the air as I pushed the heavy door open. I was lost in thought as I took in the sight of the beautiful colors surrounding me as a young man approached me. He asked if I needed anything and I silently shook my head no. I wouldn’t have been able to say anything to the man anyway.
I walked out of the shop empty-handed and proceeded to make my way to the place where I was needed. The reason why I was out on this dreary day. With my umbrella over my head keeping myself safe from the raindrops that seemed to jeer and laugh at my misfortune, I stopped by a small café. I was instantly brought back to the times before it all changed. Walking to the café almost every single day after our classes at university was a memory that I still cherished. The café provided me protection from the crying clouds up in the sky. I shook my umbrella out causing small diamond-like water droplets to fly off the black nylon covering. I approached the cashier slowly while counting how many steps it took in my head to distract myself from other thoughts. Thoughts that would ambush my mind causing sleepless nights, but a sleepless night was better than one riddled with nightmares which always came hand-in-hand with the idea of “sleep”. 31 steps. Once it was my turn to place my order I held out a finger to point out the coffee I wanted. The cashier confirmed the order and I offered a feeble shake of the head. Sitting down in a hard plastic chair that seemed to prick my bare legs which were exposed to the harsh winter, I waited for my order to be ready. I looked down at the dress I was wearing that day. Black, but beautiful. Maybe he could see me in this dress. My order was called out and I sprang up from the uncomfortable chair for my drink. With my coffee in one hand and my umbrella in the other I walked out into the cold rain once again.
I deliberately took slow measured steps to the church but I couldn’t help but feel the arising nerves in my body. As I get closer and closer I felt chills run down my arms. Glancing around I see faces I recognize and unknown faces that I hope I will not have to familiarize.
Walking through the crowd, people start to quiet down and start hushed conversations. I could already imagine what they would be saying. It’s happened before. Praying that no one starts a conversation with me, I duck my head down although I doubt anyone would actually approach me here. Finding my dad’s face in the throng of people gave me a sense of assurance. My dad would know how I felt today. Counting my steps, I walked towards my dad and he pulled me into a tight hug. 28 steps. Slowly letting go of me, I closely observed his face while pulling back. He offered me a smile which I didn’t even try to force back. We stood there in under the rain, the conversations around me turning into silence.
When it was time to enter the church I couldn’t help but let my eyes roam around the area looking for him. He would be here. I sat down next to my dad in the rows closer to the front, closer to him. There he was. I quickly averted my eyes so that other people wouldn’t notice me staring. I know they would never understand. I tried keeping any sort of emotion from showing on my face during the service, not wanting to be the subject of other people’s conversations.
Once the service ended, we all proceeded out and into the cemetery. Walking through the cluster of headstones I could feel people’s stares on me. I wonder what they must be thinking. However, I believe I would be better off not knowing. I would rather listen to their lies. The truth appears to be as a piece of sweet chocolate when its outer wrapping is peeled off. Just like the skin is needed to protect the body, a lie is needed in order to protect the truth. The truth wouldn’t be as enjoyable as a piece of chocolate.
I stood there looking at the headstone marked for him. The rain started coming down harder around us and I chuckled at the irony of it all. It rained on the day everything changed and now it’s raining on the day where everything has ended. Suddenly, all of the thoughts that I tried so hard to hide had come pouring into my mind. The things I said to him before he was gone. The things I wish I had said to him. I felt tear after tear roll down my face with every old thought springing to life inside of my head. Lowering my head to the ground I tried to hide the fact that I was slowly breaking down. The sound of the rain hitting the cold stone drowns out the sound of other people talking around me. At this moment, this moment in my life, I tried to forget. But I knew I never would.
It hurt, sending my first love away.