Embrace This Silence

Interlude: Ice Cream, One Year Ago

Memories were just that. Memories. They lived up there, in a vague, strange haze. Some of them are more vivid than others. Sometimes you wonder why certain ones have to stay vivid and others don't get too. It was hard to cope with sometimes, at least it was for someone like me. But I do have good memories. I think we all do, to some extent. Sometimes, it can be hard to think of the good things. A lot of bad memories had been floating in my head lately, but not all the time.

"I'll take a vanilla in a waffle cone. She'll take the cookie dough ice cream in a waffle cone." Chelsea said. I was handed my cone and we sat at a bench by the river where the ice cream truck sat. It was late October in Texas. It was nearly sunset. At moments like these, I remembered that life had purpose even when it felt purposeless. I felt alive, for a little while. It healed me. This was before I had to confront so much. I was so naïve.

The water was rushing loudly. The sun was setting calmly. Chelsea was in a beautiful dress. I felt so silly. But I was so happy, wasn't I? I was lost back then, wasn't I? I think I'll probably always feel a sense of being lost, because there is no conclusion, there is no ending, it just happens, it just fucking happens, doesn't it? We breathe, we eat, we live, we try our very best, and then everything is on the line-

"Man, this ice cream is the best." Chelsea said. The truck was in a well-known small, hippie town in Central Texas. It wasn't too far away from Grater. It was a well-known spot, but a wonderful one.

"It sure is." I grabbed onto her available hand and held it. We mostly sat in silence while we ate our ice cream. We watched the sun set and held hands across the bench. It was a good silence, a beautiful, infinite silence, a silence you could get lost in. Most of the time, silence was my enemy. Silence terrified me. I had to be alone with my thoughts in the silence. But this silence, well, this one was different. This was a silence I could embrace. I didn't have any thoughts. I looked at the incredible woman in front me, with her long dark hair and her green eyes, and that's all that really mattered, right? I can't control this world. I can't fix it. I can do my best to be decent and kind and good and advocate for the right things, and I can allow myself to be happy. I'm allowed to make myself happy.

We got up from the bench and started to head toward the car. I gave Chelsea a kiss as we did, and a 40-something man in sunglasses, jean shorts, and a plain black shirt muttered something: "Gross."

"You wanna speak up, my man?" Chelsea asked. She was already fuming. Her temper could be short, but right now, it was justified.

"I said, 'gross.' This is a public place, you shouldn't do that here." He said in a gruff, bored voice. He clearly hated his life. He lived in the suburbs with his wife that he referred to as a 'bitch' with his buddies at the bar. Every once in a while, he'll have an affair with a secretary or some random hook-up from the bar. He does this despite the fact that his wife pretends to love him for the sake of the kids and actually has sex with him quite frequently, just in hopes he stays around. He was not a very good man. Of course, this was all assumption. I cannot prove this information or verify it, but the narrative I weaved in my head might as well be true.

"And why shouldn't we? Is it okay for you to kiss your wife out here?" Chelsea was getting angrier.

"Yeah, because this isn't against God." He went ahead and kissed his wife on the lips. Their three-year-old daughter yelled: "Gross!" That made me chuckle at least.

"And we're against God?" Chelsea said.

"Yep." He stood up and got closer to Chelsea. A crowd was starting to form and nobody was coming forward to stop it. It was merely bystanders. Fucking hell, people are a mess. Society is a mess.

Chelsea smirked. "I suggest you back-off. You'll regret it if you don't." I was getting scared now.

"I don't think I will." He grunted as he cracked his knuckles. Chelsea didn't hesitate, she kneed him in the nuts and he fell down pretty quickly. Before he could get up, she gave him a couple good kicks in the ribs and face. He was down for the count now, and would probably be fine, just sore for a while. And didn't he deserve that, maybe? Maybe we have to get our hands dirty sometimes.

"Hope this was all worth it. You're a fucking embarrassment." Chelsea smirked. We ran away from the scene as quickly as possible and Chelsea drove as fast as she could out of the parking lot, she was giggling with glee as she did. We had gotten a distance away before we saw the boys in blue heading over to the ice cream truck. I think his wife had called 911 while Chelsea kicked his whiny ass. They never found out who did it. Nobody ever questioned us.

We were quickly back on the empty country roads as darkness surrounded us. "You're the fucking best, you know that?" I said to her.

"I know." She said in her husky voice. "But so are you."