folklore; conrad fisher

epilogue

(Conrad's Version)

My perspective on life has always been in favor of rationality over hyperboles and emotions. From a young age, I've been informed that time is linear, days are 24 hours, and everything has a beginning and end.

But with you that's all changed. Those rules have broken, because now I'm absolutely certain that we surpass the notions of time and space entirely. Despite practical logic, I've come to find that you and I are infinite.

People come and go, some might even pass away. Memories are lived, and then eventually forgotten. You, however, are the one thing in my life that I'm sure will last forever. You're a piece of my soul, and you'll always be with me, no matter what.

So yes, I love you. And what a pleasure it is to say it; even more to hear it.

Because after many years together I'll never fully get used to hearing those three sweet words coming out of your mouth. I'll never not be struck by your beauty, and my heart will never not falter at the sight of your smile. Your jokes will always be funny, and I'll always look forward to hearing your sing-songy laugh. In all honesty, I don't think I'll ever be fully used to being with someone as incredible as you.

Somehow I managed to get you to love me. I'm a pretty lucky guy.

The following years were pretty eventful. Belly ran off to Paris, Jeremiah stayed in Boston. The two found love and officially went their separate ways. They'd always be friends, though. There was something nice about that.

Your mom and Leo ended up getting married, too, and it gave you what you'd wanted all your life: a mom and a dad. They got a house in Pasadena, and a few puppies, too. We visited them whenever we got the chance.

Back at the bay area, Angelika warmed up to me again, and we started hanging out as a group with Agnes, just like old times. Agnes swore she saw our relationship coming years before it ever even happened, but I always called bullshit. Secretly, though, it always made me kind of excited to think that even when we weren't a couple, our love was always real. It's a bit sappy, but you make me feel that way.

You got your master's degree in Marine Science, working in a lab for a few years before eventually going on to get your PhD. You did a lot of research in investigating the changing currents, which aided the work done by climate change activists by providing them substantial proof of global warming's effects on the ocean. Seriously, you're a genius. After a long time in your field, you followed in your parent's footsteps and became a professor at Brown University. It's kind of funny how things work out. The school you almost went to became your place of work.

As for myself, I finished up med school and became a doctor, yadda yadda. That part isn't nearly as interesting as the stuff you've done. But hey, we got to move to Boston and get a pretty nice place together.

Because when I said forever, I meant it. The year I finished med school I made you a promise to be by your side for the rest of our lives. I did the whole dramatic 'down-on-one-knee' thing, and asked you to be my wife. When you said yes, I felt like a little kid. My body was just gushing out happiness that I didn't even know how to process, but it didn't matter. We were in it together, for evermore.

We had our wedding in Pennsylvania, at a creek near a suburban town. You said it was a place you used to go to when you were very young. I thought it was the perfect spot to finally marry you. I watched spots of your face glow as the sun peaked out through the tree leaves, until you were finally standing in the light's full embrace. And I thought, I truly am the happiest man alive.

I remembered a moment when we were kids when you looked just like that. It was your last Summer there during our childhood, only back then, we hadn't known it yet. I was 12 and feeling all of these awkward, pubescent feelings. Suddenly my face would get all red whenever you looked at me for too long, and I'd start sweating everywhere. It was humiliating, and I couldn't explain it.

My mom and Laurel took all of us to the boardwalk to play games and whatnot, but Steven and I thought we were 'too old' to hang out with our families––classic preteen boy stuff. We wanted to sneak off and ride the ferris wheel, all by ourselves for the first time. When the moms took all of us to the restroom for a bathroom break, Steven and I made our escape.

I wasn't normally rebellious, but it felt fun to do it just that once. We sprinted off towards the ferris wheel and got in line, bunching ourselves up between people so that we weren't caught.

We were probably boarding as the moms realized we were missing. I'm sure they were running around the park, worried sick about their sons. Somehow, you must have managed to convince them to let you look on your own. I guess being 11 makes you old enough for that sort of thing, and another person on the lookout would help them find us faster. But I didn't know any of that, I was just stupidly enjoying the newfound freedom Steven and I found in our tiny ferris wheel carriage.

Except as the ride was nearing its end, I looked down and saw you, ever so small from above. You were looking up at the ride, trying to figure out which cart held us. The sun was setting then, and your face looked golden and bright. The wind fluttered through your hair, and strands of it shone, like you were made of diamond. Your eyes finally met mine as our cart reached the surface, and my heart sank. But in that moment, I could finally name those awkward, jittery feelings I'd get around you. It was love, I knew it then, and for the rest of my life that never changed.

I'll never know how you figured out we went to the ferris wheel, and when I asked you about it, you just told me you had a gut feeling we'd be there.

I was thinking about all of this as I was cleaning up our attic. I was putting away boxes of old photo albums, when I came across something that I knew I just had to show you.

At first you were apprehensive about going up there, worried it would be some dead rat or something, but I got you to follow me anyway.

I bent down to pull a plush garment out of a box, handing it to you afterward. You opened it up and nearly stumbled. It was my high school football cardigan, the one that became yours.

You looked at it with such rigor and intensity, burying your face into the fabric so that you could catch its smell. I'm sure underneath all of the dust and mildew of the attic, there was a scent so nostalgic, it could almost make you feel like you were going back in time.

Still astonished, you looked down at the cardigan, gripping it tightly between your hands, "Can you believe it? Somehow, after all that we'd been through those years, we managed to fall in love again?"

I smiled at you, "I never stopped after the first time."

"You're so sentimental, sometimes," you joked.

"You just sniffed my old sweater."

"Call it even?"

I grinned, "Fine by me."

We went downstairs, where I fetched the keys to my car. The surfboards were tied on top of it, and our bags were squeezed into the trunk. By the time I got into the driver's seat, you were already comfortable inside, with your phone connected to the aux. I squeezed your hand before pulling up my GPS. I set the directions to Cousin's Beach, and we drove on, excited to spend yet another Summer at the old beach house.