Break Me, Fix Me, Repeat.

Chapter 2

I'm trying not to cry, though the urge to let it pour out seems to win.

I have to think of this as a celebration of life, not death. I'm normally not a very positive person, but telling myself that she isn't suffering anymore makes me feel at ease. For a long time she was ill, wasting away as the force of nature had its grip on her future, and she was now in a better place. Besides, I couldn't cry much anyways because crying and sleep were the only two actions I have done in the last four days.

They lowered her into the ground, and I tried to distract myself from losing my control, or even watching for that matter. I turned my attention else where, and I could still hear my mother's sobs and my father's random outbursts of crying as well, so I still felt like shit.

Still trying to distract myself, I looked around to see all of the people that surprisingly showed up in Nelson County, Virginia for Grace's memorial. I saw my Aunt Linda who flew in from Ohio with her new boyfriend; that was a sight to see. I found some of my cousins from my mom's side of the family, but I wasn't close with them at all. I spotted several close friends of Grace's, even some acquaintances... Some of her friends from Texas flew in as well, and I recognized some of the faces in the crowd from the children's hospital where she was being treated for the last couple of years. It was nice to see how many people cared about her.

I continued to scan the faces filled with sorrow and remorse, until I spotted Karen. I noticed her right away when I saw the blonde hair, and standing right next to her was Ashley, and then Erica who was crying into her dad's chest. Cameron was standing on the end of the Gamble family; he was holding his hands at his front with his head down and some tears streaming down his tan cheeks.

Man, was he cute. I could hardly recognize him from the last time when he had longer hair. Then again, that was almost four years ago. His hair was a light brown; the natural highlights made him look dirty blonde, giving his tan skin a nice tone to it. it wasn't as curly as it used to be, it just looked wavy and parted the side nicely. He was definitely over six feet tall now, no doubt. His muscles were a lot more toned and you could even see a glimpse of it through his gray dress shirt... which made his eyes pop.

Damn, I really need to stop checking him out. My sister is being buried and I'm drooling over Cameron. I mentally slapped myself in the face and then looked away, blushing even though he had no idea I was staring at him.

I continued to think of happy thoughts to keep from crying.

I remembered years ago that Cam had taught me to think of the silliest things when I'm sad. For example, babies with mustaches, or possibly even a talking Chihuahua with a sombrero on its head and a Spanish accent... the whole package. He always said shouting the word "bubbles" while keeping a straight face worked because every time you end up more happy than sad, but I never tried that one. Mine and Cameron's personal favorite was the thought of how loud his sister Ashley farted when we were in the quietest scene of a movie at the theatre. She was so embarrassed, but we kept laughing until we got kicked out.

It's obvious to say that I was no longer sad, instead, a small smile consumed my frown. Especially when I thought of a little baby with a western, twirled mustache, I couldn't help but not smile.

I kept my head up, said a prayer to Grace inside my head, and before I knew it, the worst part of the entire service was over. I was dreading it all morning.

All of a sudden, people were wiping away their tears and gathering up, surrounding my parents and me. I think this is the part where they give their wishes and show their sympathy for our loved one. Let's just say after the first two guests showed us their sympathy and shared their memories, I walked off. The mushy, heart-felt emotions that radiated off of them was enough repellant to keep me away.