My Person

Part 1: The Call

Celine:

I'm not okay. I caught a late flight from the west coast to the funeral. Landed in Boston at three in the morning, not early enough to check into my hotel and get any sleep, not late enough to have gotten any real rest on the plane. My eyes felt heavy and itchy as I went through the motions of picking up my bags, catching a cab to the dingy hotel I'd selected for affordability, dropping off my luggage, and picking up a greasy McDonalds breakfast just as the sun was rising.

It was mid-May, but it was cold in Boston. Boston didn't get the springtime memo until late June, and then it was three months of pushing-one hundred-percent humidity. I'd almost forgotten after my sunny years in California.

"Meet me there", my fiancé texted me, fifteen dull and numb hours ago. My fiancé and I have been going through it lately. I'm trying to keep it together for my parents since they love him. I never originally wanted him to be my fiancé, I was in love with someone else. Sebastian was his name. People always told me that it was better to love someone you can't have than to have someone you can't love. But I never realized that, till 5 months later, after a call, I got from a funeral home. My heartbeat was fast, beating rapidly, growing faster after every beat. Digging my nails in my skin, holding my breath, praying they wouldn't say this one name. There was silence. Hearing only the air move through the trees....

"Sebastian". I choked on my breath as my heart stopped and everything turned blurry. He was gone.

I finished the breakfast sandwich just as the grimy cab I'd called, pulled up to the drab, cramped building where I'd be spending the day. The sky was grey, not threatening rain or snow, no clouds visible really; grey was just the color of the sky this time of year. And the air was dense and stuffy enough, it felt like this whole street was indoors somewhere. I missed him but I had to stay strong. My fiancé came with me to keep me company. I didn't want him to come, but he insisted. My fiancé didn't really love me. He loved the idea of me, the image of being the mayor's daughter's husband. It was all about the image and how it looked for my family, never what I wanted. I was losing myself, slowly every day, forgetting my worth. However, I always remembered, that people always think that the most painful thing in life is losing the one you value. The truth is, the most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, forgetting you are special too. Sebastian loved me for me and losing myself wouldn't be what he wanted. I wanted him, I wanted to choose him, but losing my family was not worth the risk. Sometimes cupid misses one of his precious arrows at the wrong person, so I had to deal with it.

The next day came, I put on a black dress and shoes and left. The sadness drained through me rather than skating over my skin. It travelled through every cell to reach the ground. I wanted him.

My fiancé waited for me outside the car. He gave me his hand to get out of the car. His hands were cold, as I looked into his eyes all I saw was his arrogance, he believed he was the best and just that. He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, causing shocks through my body. Maybe I was wrong about him. Before my mind changed, I looked to the right to see the paparazzi taking pictures. My heart dropped and I sighed. I let go of his hand and walked away. I did not have time for this.

Heartache is a real thing; it even shows up on medical scans. When a heart is really broken, the health of the body and brain needs time to recover. There aren't any special medications or salves for the heart, yet only the healing that tranquil space, time and the love of others may bring. But there was no one else. This funeral was not just about a loved one's passing, but the one person who made me smile, even on the worst days. My person.

I sat in the back row of the church, hearing all his loved ones go up and talk about how much of a great a person he was. No one knew who I was, but I didn't blame them, Sebastian and I never made our relationship public, so I didn't even know why my fiancé came with me. The casket was closed, he was not shown. I did not complain, seeing him dead was not what I needed today. My fiancé sat next to me, on his phone the whole time, not even comforting me. As I sat on that chair, I felt a pair of eyes stare right through my head. I turned around to see no one there. Something did not feel right. I told my fiancé I needed the washroom, he didn't even listen to me, patted me on the leg telling me to have fun. I got up and went to the back, curiosity consuming me, something just didn't feel right. As I got to the back, a hand gripped my arm, pulling me to the right. Another hand covered my mouth. I was confused and scared all at the same time. The touch was not from any stranger. It was warm and soft. I quickly turned around and choked on my breath. He had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. He was tall, with beautiful blue eyes. A smile that could make anyone smile back. I am okay. It was him, my other half, my person, Sebastian...