Once In A While

Epilogue

"Once in a while, I think of you- I always do. I think of what would have been, had things gone differently. And maybe it was all set in stone. But still, I like to imagine... What would it be like, to have you in front of me in the aisle? Vows to stay together till death do us part. To protect and take care of each other.

Then again, isn't this what we always had done? Maybe we didn't need some wedding vows to prove it.

I still wear it- that ring you gave to me, so long ago. Cliché you may would have called it. But it brings me comfort. As if you really are down here with me. And it makes me feel loved all over again.

I have a box under my bed. In it, every drawing you ever gave to me, your sketchbooks, the photo we took with Sasha and Connie on our first day in Marley, and your letter, just to remind me of all the things I've loved, then lost, then slowly fell in love with again.

And when I feel down, I think about the time we spent at the beach forever ago; how the silence until you replied back was so deafening, I felt like my eardrums would explode and my heart wouldn't stop beating so fast. Until you took me in your arms, and I felt like I could touch the stars. One with the sky, one with the sea.

Or the time you said 'I love you' the last time we made love that night. I was the first one to say it out loud, ignoring the creeping fear that we'd be seperated.

At times I felt that what we shared, transcended time and place- too powerful of a force. It's just that, now you're gone, and I don't know what to think of it- what to do with my feelings, even. Sure, the ocean is a great listener, but I am getting tired of declaring my love to an endless blue, waiting for you to come back.

Here's something else I realized- our lives aren't ours, because it has been proven to me, that from the moment we enter this world, exiting the womb, to the moment we are placed in our tomb, we are bound to other people. To some, more so than others. Too bad you left, too soon. You could have done so much more.

I believe that the best decision I've ever made, was joining you and Marco at dinner that day years ago; because of that, I met you, and you made living in this world a tad easier.

Funnily enough, I sometimes cannot help but think of it as my worst decision, too- I wish I had never met you. Maybe then this wouldn't hurt so much. Because it hurts too much. Much more than any physical injury I have ever gotten. But I could never blame you for it.

I am trying to move on. I really am. Trying to hold on to what little I have left of you. But it's hard. I am happy that peace has been restored, but I am sad because you, the one who fought to the ends, isn't here to experience it. I am also sad, because when I found that letter of yours -I still don't know if you meant to ever give it to me- I realized I had failed to be there with you, at your final moments, something you said would be the perfect ending to us, whenever that moment came. I am sorry.

What happened to that prime central real estate you yearned for night and day, I do not know.

So that day, on my 22nd birthday, I thought something has to change; I can't always be waiting for you, to wake up next to me every morning. You might be wondering where I am getting at- why am I even rambling at this point, if you're not down here to listen to me?

Well, I do hope this sort of makes sense; because it's you, after all. You seemed to understand me the most for the little, in my opinion, time we spent together.

Years will pass, but I don't see myself ever forgetting about you. And maybe, once in a while -always- I'll close my eyes and pretend you're next to me. So, until we meet again, happy six years anniversary, Jean. I wish we were able to celebrate it together, but I'll have to make do with whatever I have right now.

At last, when I come to an end, I wish to breathe a sigh of relief, because hopefully there will be so much more to look forward to; The journey of finding you again. Wherever and whenever that may be."

I concluded my monologue and looked up to the sky; The sun was setting, orange sunlight reflecting slightly on the gravestones. I hesitantly got up, looked at his grave for the last time, then walked away. That day marked three years, nine months and one day without him.

Life grew quiet around me once again, when I came to understand that Jean, with all his flaws and intricacies, was essentially too good for me, too good for anyone.