Picking Ourselves Up

There's a certain type of hollowness to sitting in a church for too long. Especially if you didn't grow up in one, and was taught there was no point in going. It's different when you've been laying on a pew for longer than you're supposed to be. Black high-low dress bunched up at my knees, while the white ribbon in my hair tried to come undone.

It's been hours since the service, or that's just how it feels in my mind. Vincent Reddings, dead at seventeen. Vinnie, my boyfriend, who's quite literally the embodiment of the sun. I guess he shined a little too bright. It's these times where I would love to force myself into believing in a higher power, but it felt wrong coming from me. It felt wrong to sit through an hour long service of people speaking on how his spirit would be resurrected into some great place, when he's dead and about to be in the ground. It's a Jewish tradition to not be able to look upon the dead, and keep the casket closed at all times. It'd be jeopardizing to open it with his descent to the beyond or whatever else they said. I don't quite understand all of it, so I just made it easier on myself to listen.

January 7, 2006 - January 8, 2023

The last time I truly saw him was his birthday. I couldn't for the life of me remember what we spoke about, what he wore, or even the movie we watched with our friends. I kinda hate myself for not committing all of it to memory, in case something like this happened. Obviously no one knew it would happen, but I should be able to remember all of it. The memory was just a blur of popcorn and skittles being thrown around because we were being stupid and stolen smiles because we're just goofy.

His mom asked me to write a piece to say for the funeral, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I almost didn't get out of bed, but just knowing his family wouldn't be disappointed if I didn't go was enough to eat me alive. Knowing he wouldn't be disappointed if I didn't go was enough for me to show up. I knew none of my words would be enough to sum up just how perfect he was though.

We had a song we loved to sing in the car together. He could play guitar pretty well and we'd sing horribly off key together. I just about put all the strings he plucked to memory, as I sat on a stool playing it for everyone. Teenage Dream. Sure as hell didn't feel like then. Definitely doesn't feel like it now.

I could hear the door of the church swing wildly, hitting against wood, as someone had walked in. There isn't any service scheduled for the rest of the day, and everyone had already made their way to the after party, or whatever it's called. Feeling someone sit next to my feet, I sat up quickly to see who it was.

Olivia Dunn. Probably, no, most definitely the last person I expected to see here. She wore a green, skin-tight dress that hugged her in all of the right places. Her olive skin tanner than the last time I saw her, copper hair now a jet black, and not as skinny. Her eyes held a certain intensity in them, even though she still wears the same glasses from sixth grade.

"I would say 'crazy seeing you here' but that's a lie not worth telling," she mused, moving my legs from beside her, forcing me to sit up.

"Crazy seeing you here Liv..." I said, throwing her words back at her. She only smiled coyly before sighing to herself.

"What can I say, I missed you. Haven't hung out in a while, thought we could have some fun!" Her dark brown eyes stared directly into mine, trying to obligate me into sharing the same energy.

I could only help but to scoff at her, the nerve she had to even show up. She just has to make everything about herself, and if she didn't everything would be made up of tearing everyone down. I didn't quite think she would sink as low as continuing it with the dead. I missed how nice she could be, but it looks like that was covered by layers of black hair dye.

Ignoring her statement, I looked back to the cross sitting on the wall. Now, I actually do wish that I went to that stupid after party, or maybe just to wallow in tissue boxes at home. The last time I truly had a conversation with Olivia was freshman year Sadie Hawkins. I heard her boyfriend was cheating on his girlfriend with her, and decided to tell her at the dance, which I admit was probably in poor taste. She didn't really believe me anyways, thinking it was a jealousy thing, which was the last thing it ever could be.