We went through the motions of his burial. I avoided looking at anyone as Ella held onto me for dear life the whole time. I didn't want to see anyone. The only one I wanted to see in that moment was forever taken away from me. After his coffin was lowered into the ground, and most of the guests had left, it was just our families left.
"Ivy," Mrs. Jones stated as she came to me with a hug. I never understood why she loved me so much. I took away her precious baby boy. "He was so much happier ever since he found you," she answered my unasked question. "After his diagnosis, he was looking for meaning, and then you came along. I hope you know how special and meaningful you were to him. How much joy you brought to him. How much hope..." she trailed off.
I knew I shouldn't be letting her comfort me. She gave birth to him. She watched him grow up, spent countless, sleepless hours at his bedside as a child, helped him through scraped knees and heartbreaks... she was supposed to predecease him. But she was trying to make me feel better.
I gave her an even tighter squeeze. "Drew was amazing. It had nothing to do with me and everything to do with you and Mr. Jones. Thank you for making the best husband ever," I choked on the last two words. And we just held each other, neither of us willing to break down or let go. Eventually, we did let go of each other and his family walked away, along with my parents.
It was just Ella and I. "I need some time alone," I finally told her.
"Will you be OK?" she asked.
"I'm not going to a bar or anything. I'm not going to drive off a cliff or into a telephone pole. I just want to clear my head. Maybe scream at God or something," I threw in, only semi-joking.
"You call me if you need anything. Even if it's just that you're crying too hard and can't drive, just call me. I'll come get you," Ella insisted. I nodded. She was truly an amazing sister. She joined my parents in the car.
After everyone had driven off and I was left alone, I just stood there, looking over Drew. I felt like I was on a boat that was rocking in the sea, lightly swaying me back and forth, with just enough force that I felt my balance being thrown off. I sighed. "I know you're not down in that box," I started to say. "I don't know if you can even hear me. But if you can, or if there's an angel that will bring my message back, I just want you to know, the only regret I have with you is telling you it was OK to go. I know you're in a better place. But I'm in a worse place. And we both know I'm selfish. I just want to not be here anymore." I sighed again. The words felt too formal. I couldn't connect with Andrew there. So I took my car out for a drive and let my heart guide me.
I drove for a while before finding myself at a beach. I couldn't care less that I was definitely not dressed for the beach. And I was grateful for the notebook and blanket I always kept in the car. I silenced my phone and went to sit by the shore. Luckily, the place was empty since beach season was over. It was still warm though. I sighed.
The beach brought very little comfort to me. I knew, eventually, it wouldn't hurt as much as it did. After all, I was able to move on from Ivan's passing. Even though my love for Andrew was infinitely larger than my love for Ivan. I felt a little guilty at that thought, because I didn't want to minimize Ivan. But I was comforted by the fact that it would make sense. Andrew was the love of my life. Ivan was my brother. I loved them both deeply in very different ways, so it was OK that my love for Andrew was larger. We expressed our love in a way with each other that we never did with anyone else. So it made sense.
Our love. It was an amazing love. I didn't think it'd be possible to love that way after all the hurt I endured. The self-hate, the pain of all the rejection I'd faced, the pain of loss... but Andrew showed me that all those moments that felt like they were life-ending were simply hurdles that I managed to overcome. They made me stronger. They made my love stronger. The road may have been painful, long, winding, and unpaved. But it led me to Andrew. And when I met him, I surprised myself with the fact that I was still able to love. I was able to love him. It wasn't a perfect love. It was a tired love. A battered love. But it was my love nonetheless. And I gave it all to Andrew with all I had.
YOU ARE READING
Weathered Love
ChickLit"You're not a burden," he said. "OK," I said, again, trying to play it off like I didn't care. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep up the façade. I could feel the tears banging against the barricade just behind my eyelids, the sobs clawing at...