All Again

An Indecision

Turns out all Jamie does know is she needs flowers, because she's scrambling like she's late when she hasn't even decided if she's going yet.

Her hands are filled with her hair as she paces wildly around the living room (always careful to avoid hitting her shin on the coffee table, though), the knuckles of her fists planted against her head. She doesn't know what to do and she's running out of time to make that decision.

If Jamie leaves right now to the airport, she could catch a plane to London hopefully around 8am. The flight would be around seven hours in total, and with the time difference, she would land in London around 8pm. Just enough time to see... well, maybe just admire from afar, Dani on this important date.

But since she would be arriving so late, there's no way she could fly back home so quickly. So Jamie would have to stay there over night and—

"Ugh!" Jamie yells out in frustration. She stops pacing and collapses elbow first on the back of a chair.

Screwing her eyes shut at the first sensation of tears welling, Jamie exhales loudly, compressing her body so she can just have a moment to properly think. It's just like how it was four years ago—it's like Jamie is mimicking a ghost of herself, following these same movements, these same gestures. And that feels so heavy on Jamie. She's reliving this moment to be with Dani again, even if it's futile.

But this queasy feeling in the pit of her gut makes her want to stay home. Like she's going to double over and just spill until there's nothing left of her. Unraveling like winding stairs, in a downward spiral forever. Her fingers tremble, desperately grasping onto her face like a reminder that she still exists. Which is also a reminder that Dani still exists in some form. Jamie feels her shoulders relax slowly and softly, and she inhales a shaky breath.

Jamie stands there for a couple minutes. She breathes in and she breathes out, gradually allowing her hands to part from her face. Gathering herself so she can make a choice because, as she nervously glances toward the clock, time is continuously trickling away like sand.

An indecision, and a rather painful one at that. Luckily, Jamie hasn't found herself in many of these in her lifetime. As if painting with a paintbrush, Jamie has always made the most steady and confident strokes. And if there were moments of unease or worry, she always had her other hand to lean on. Then with age came Dani, and her hand forever helped guide Jamie's. And those bold strokes became graceful.

The morning Jamie woke and Dani was gone, Jamie didn't pace around wondering if she should go see her or not. There wasn't a waiting period. It was like Jamie had completely uprooted herself in the sole effort of finding Dani—though she knew exactly where she was going to be. Jamie had to get to Dani as quickly as she could because she wanted to bring her home. She had to make sure she was okay and she devastatingly disappointed and led astray. Because what Jamie found was everything but okay.

And that discovery, that blurry image that lives on forever in Jamie's mind, is why there's this dread pulling down on her from her gut. This fog clouding up her brain, these canyons forming in her body. She's drown out in that memory—her empty screams into the lake, wildly flailing down to reach Dani, her sobbed out promises. The way she begged as if the lake would just cough Dani back up into Jamie; as if Dani would have allowed that.

Now she's washed up, and even thinking about returning makes her feel on the verge of passing out.

But Owen is right; Jamie doesn't have to plunge back into the lake. She could simply stay long enough to watch her walk and then leave some flowers and some of her love for her.

Slowly rising from her slumped over position on the back of a chair, she glances back at the clock again. 7:40am. There's no time left to keep dipping herself in water and wringing herself out. She has to either catch a plane within the hour or stay here.