It was a very hot day, yet all I could feel was the cold pressing in on my bones. It was my first time being back here in a solid five years. It was flabbergasting how quickly you could forget how beautiful a place was.
I remember going to the overlook above this glen and waiting for it to capture my worries and replace it with passionate, encompassing fondness; tingles and a feeling of wholeness. This was a place to go for hours of undisturbed silence. I remember how you used to.
How I managed to forget something so important to myself; I do not want to know, but just seeing it now... it was like something out of a book.
As I sat there for hours, all of the various and wondrous memories we had made came back to me, but not just the pleasant ones.
The land went completely still as my silent and unyielding grief befell the land. Sad thoughts plagued my head. And; suddenly, the valley was dark and rain clouds began to let out their tears. Yet I could not move. Not from this spot. Perhaps it was because of a feeling that I deserved to feel the rain, or it could have been guilt holding me down, or even the thought that the cloud's tears would mask my own.
My head between my legs, trying to shut out the rain; the nasty thoughts, the screaming whispers, then utter silence. I could still feel the cold; even though it was well past warm in reality. I could feel that I was back when he was here. I lifted up my head. The land is no longer filled with dancing lilies. And the trees no longer have leaves.
A voice calls in the distance. Tears hit my eyes. I did not respond as fear held my response in my throat. Long moments later, a familiar touch graced my shivering body. I had to tell myself to relax. The tension left my body as he sat down beside me, but continued to grow.
A voice I once knew filled my head. "What are you doing out here?" A catch in my throat prevents me from responding, yet again. He shuffled behind me and held me there between his arms, between his legs. I am in his embrace. I take a hand and rub it along his leg, then promptly pull back and place my hands in my lap. It hurts so much to feel him again.
A soft touch on my shoulder turned into a steady weight as he laid his head down upon me. He tells me everything is alright.
I tell myself that this will be the last time. One more chance. That is all I deserve to let go.
A bobbing chin pressing into my shoulder disturbs my peace. "You tell me all the time how much you want to see it, but you never go." The silence ensues once more as dread and self hate build inside.
As he waits several minutes for a response, I release some of that rebuilding tension. I'm not done by the time he pulls me tighter and tries again. "One day... you are going to have to go down there, and see what's in there for yourself, love."
Once again, I don't respond. All I want is to tell him no. To never see the barn. To never make the mistake of letting him end his life again. And yet, I turn to look over at his face. I know one of the last few memories I have of him is about to come to an end, but this time I know what's coming. I know I can't lie to myself and shove it down; act as if I don't go; we can live happily ever after.
It takes me minutes to shakily whisper the words. The words I said the very first time I went through this. "Let's go." It comes out as a whisper.
His touch graced my hand as he stood up and pulled me to him. He leaned down just enough to nibble my lip. I didn't let him. The action might have been romantic the first time, but now it was simply painful.
He pulled away and he looked into my eyes only to see the trouble storming within them; not asking what was wrong, for he knew this was something I would have to tell him when I was ready. The flash of guilt in his eyes killed me inside.
I knew not expressing myself hurt him, but so would telling him he was going to die. I wasn't sure if I could handle going through this again, letting him die in my own illusion. But I had to. He told me I had to see what was beyond. There was no moving on without this and so, for his sake, I would. No matter how hard it was for me. As we mulled our way down the hill, his hands never leaving mine, I felt I had to tell myself it would be harder; even, when the plow came through.
We crossed the field; every second I wished that we could go back to the old days where we would dance through these fields without a care in the world. The pain and guilt worsened with each coming step, but he never let me fall. He walked to my pace and held the right kind of space.
When we were close enough to see in the barn through the various holes and broken doorway I choked and he spoke for me. "Are you ready?"
A small nod given in return.
Even though I had seen the barn a thousand times, it still is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen; it fills me with awe every time I gaze at it. Though this time the joy was dulled to a point where I could barely feel it. I stumbled a few feet towards the doors and took one last good look at him. He paused and took my hand; flashing one of his cheesy "everything is gonna be alright" smiles.I turned back to face the door, a single tear tugging at my eye. I wiped it away, pretending to wipe my hair from my eyes.
I knew what would happen if I opened the doors, but knowing this would be the last time gave me enough confidence to take the last step up to the towering doors and push them open.
He comes up from behind me and walks in first as I stand in the doorway. One second he is taking his first few steps in and the next he is in the centre spinning in circles.
I tell myself I can't give up here, so I step inside and sit down on the same barrel. I have sat here three times now. It is positioned near the doorway. All I can do now is to enjoy the last few minutes. I'll get to watch his graceful motions and compelling smile. He dances his way over and extends his hand. "May I have this dance?"
A single tear forces its way through. I wipe it away, take a deep gulp, then look him in the eyes and smile with amorousness. "I'll be sure to savour this."
I'm taking his hand as he replies, "Jeremy, why? I'm not leaving you".
His hand is rough; I grip harder and pull him in closer to him than I normally would. The pain is now choking my throat, but he can't see that. "I didn't say that." forces its way out of my throat.
He keeps my gaze as we swirl around - him leading - taking deep swoops, little twirls, and long moments to enjoy this moment; all-the-while, the petals dancing with us. He slows to a stop after several minutes. His eyes soften as he gazes up at the loft. The smile on my face fades away as he hugs me for the last time. He pulls back slightly, looks again to the high area and then back to me. He bites his lip as he gestures slightly with his head to the loft then perks his eyebrows, "Sh-shall we?"
The anxiety crushed me internally every bit as hard as it had the first time; still, I held strong. "I-I don-" brokenly, I corrected myself. "Yes... definitely." He let me pull away at my own pace. He took a step back and asked if I was following.
I tell him I will need a moment, and head back to my barrel. I face the other direction so I don't have to see what happens next. That makes four. He then proceeds up the stairs. I can hear them creaking. Tears begin rolling down my face. This time I don't have to shove back: he will not ever see them.
About halfway up, it began. The board beneath his foot cracked and he fell through. Loud noises, His whole leg was caught. My heart jumped. It's only just begun. I close my eyes and curl up. The world turns dark as the beam above him groans loud.
I have no reason to move from where I am- back on the cliff. I already know that it isn't over. I failed to let go - instead, I only gripped harder.
I bite my lip and stand, still shaking.
It's time I tell the story. Our story, Romeo.
