Moving On

Chapter 2

I looked at the car keys sitting on my oak dresser, only to remember that my car is broken down and that was the reason I have to walk to Belle’s house. Gavin would have fixed it if he were still alive. He used to fix everything in our apartment, from the sink to the painted walls that seemed to always get scuffed up. I don’t think anyone can ever replace him, and to be honest I don’t want anyone to either. I don’t think there's anyone quite like him; he was unique in every way possible. He used to do this really adorable thing when he was nervous, he’d mess with his pockets and god did he blush a royal red. I loved that about him, I really did.

I miss his laugh that was so childlike, and how you could always find yourself laughing at one of his stupid jokes just because he couldn’t tell it without laughing himself. It was even funnier when he would laugh really hard because he’d let out a little snort, which was the cutest thing I had ever seen. I loved his hair, it was a jet black and fell perfectly on his forehead but he usually cast it to one side and making sure he could see every bit of my face, not wanting to miss a single grin, frown or dimple.

He once came home from work in the worst mood possible, just lying around punching a pillow. He had been layed off that day but I came over and kissed him on the nose, smiling, telling him everything would be okay in the end. He had looked at me and told me that what I said had been the best thing he’d heard all day and that the smile on my mouth had made his whole day completely flip into utter happiness. He always would make me smile no matter what, and always said he wanted me to be happy.

I don’t understand why I couldn’t have taken his place in that dreadful hell-hole of a hospital. He didn’t deserve anything but the best in life. He made people happy, did everything in his power to be the best person he could be and that’s how he was repayed for his kindness. He got to sit in a bed for nine months, slowly wasting away to nothing. Why him and not me?

I guess you never really know why your loved ones are ripped away from you so suddenly. The thing that scares me most about losing Gavin, is forgetting. I'm terrified I'll forget his minty smell, his seafoam green eyes that always seemed to sparkle when he smiled at me, every eyelash as they clung to his eyes, shadowing them from the sun. I’d always been jealous of them but he insisted I was even more beautiful, every part of me and even my scar.

That’s my biggest fear; forgetting everything that ever meant anything to me. It keeps me awake most nights, just thinking about if I ever lost those memories. However, I know it's impossible because he'd made a print on my memory and that print would stay there forever, just like the first footprint on the moon; a piece of history never to be forgotten and always there, even if we can’t truly see it ourselves.

I hadn’t noticed that I'd left the apartment until I felt an icy chill run down my cheek and goose bumps slowly rising on my skin. I wish I'd brought a jacket. I always seem to forget to bring a jacket when it's winter. I hate the winter, everything is so much darker, gloomier, and there never seems to be any sign of life left anywhere in the world. I remember Gavin loved the winter. He loved the fresh crisp air and he always used to point out how the mood changed, and how the sun looked different everytime it set. Maybe that’s why I hate the winter after all, because it reminds me of something I lost. I mean, I used to love it but now it just depresses me and reminds me of him.

Walking down the street in the cold helped me realize Gavin is the only thing I really ever think about anymore. I mean I don’t really have much to think of anyways, since I had dropped out of U.N.I after he was diagnosed. He was everything I'd wanted and everything I'd ever think about. The saddest part of thinking about him is that he isn’t ever coming back, and there's nothing I can ever do about it.

Passing cars by the hundreds and people by the thousands is an everyday routine for someone living in the UK, specifically London. Every face flashes by in an instant and I can’t help but think that Maybe they're hurting as much as I am or, Why do they look so happy and, Why  can’t I be that happy. I finally reached Belle’s house and was starting to feel the cold take its toll on me, once again regretting the fact that I didn’t bring a jacket. I quickly gave the big handle a tug and let it drop, making a heavy thump… thump. I heard the pitter-pattering of feet flying down the long staircase, even for the little person that Belle is.