sorry // justin bieber

62.- dirt is thrown

Halley

It was nearly the end of winter, but the cold wasn't in the atmosphere. It was inside me, clinging to my core.

I remember the laws of physics back from my high school days and think that it's not the cold arriving to my chest, it's the warm fading away somewhere in the middle of the fog.

I hear the words the preacher has to say, but I don't really pay attention, I'm too focused on the coffin in front of me about to be pulled inside the earth to be forgotten by everyone, once I die, and my mom dies, and all of us die, no one will be here to remember my dad and what he did and who he helped.

"Now we're going to listen a few words from his daughter, Halley".

I know that's my cue to take a step forward and read the words I wrote on a piece of paper the night before, but I can't stop looking at my dad's coffin.

I feel a tap on my back, a hand letting me know this is the moment everyone is listening to me, the moment I have to say something. I look to my left, and there it is the figure that held me all night  when I couldn't sleep and couldn't stop crying. His brown eyes look at me with patience, and his hand, previously attached to my waist as a form of support is now letting go of me, giving me the space I need to take a step.  

In front of me, behind the crowd of people, I can catch a pair of blue eyes looking at me with sadness and what I think he means as comfort. I try to give him a smile and rise my hand up to where my heart is to let him know I appreciate the gesture. Connor gives me a reassuring nod.

"Dad" I let out with a muffled voice, "My dad", I look at the ground where he'll be lying and I feel my heart skipping a beat. I shut my eyes tight and remember who I am, who I'm with, who I've lost. "My dad was an amazing man" I finally state looking up, "He was full of joy, passion and dedication for what he loved. He was endlessly happy, and he irradiated that to the people who had the luck to meet him. He was kind and caring and always saw the good in the other" I pause for a moment, "I could go on and on, telling you how incredible he was, but mostly, I just want to say he was kind of my best friend. He was my best friend, in fact, the very best".

In that moment, I feel something breaking inside me and I can't stop crying. Not like when my mom told me he died, this time is different. It's like something that I've been holding back for so long is finally released, finally breaking free.

I feel a pair of hands holding me by the shoulders and slightly pulling me back as my dad's body is being buried, dragged to the ground, distancing him from the stars he loved so much.

My knees fail and hit the ground next to the grave. Justin sits next to me, his head next to mine as he rubs my back, something that's become a habit of his which I don't precisely dislike, it feels quite good to know there's someone there who truly knows what I feel.

Dirt is thrown over the wooden coffin until there is nothing left to see except for the stone that says Arthur Garret Dunn and the flowers lying underneath it. Hydrangeas, because they are my favorite ones. I never got to ask my father which ones were their favorite flowers and now I'll never know.

The preacher says a few more words I don't listen to and the ceremony is over, my dad's body is in the ground, a few feet beneath me and I'm here sitting with my broken heart next to the boy -the man- who always knew how to fix it, except for now.

I tap the floor with my palm, as if somehow, I'm sending my dad a message: "I'm still here".

Justin waits patiently next to me while I swallow the last bitter nod in my throat and turn my face to him.

"I'm ready to go now"

"Okay" he barely whispers and grabs me by my shoulders to help me get up.

We walk down the cemetery on the way to the car. People walking pass me place a hand on my shoulder and mutter how sorry they are before they disappear. I nod and give them a sad smile so they know I appreciate their sorrow. I know my father was an amazing man, and I'm grateful for all the people who came here to cry for him, to show he wasn't just some random man who never touched anyone's life, but that doesn't brings him back.

Of course I can't say that to them. So I just smile and nod.

It doesn't pass much time since we leave the cemetery when a flash captures my gaze at the other side of the street.

"Who is she, Justin?" A man on a coat asks before taking another shot. I know who he is, I know what he wants, I hate what he does.

"Have some respect, asshole" Is all he replies.

My mom gets in the front seat of the black car next to the driver. Justin and I sit on the back.

"Thanks for being here" I tell him on a quiet voice.

"Anytime" he reassures me and holds my hand on his. I run my thumb through his hand and look for his wrist under the fabric of his suit, reaching for the area I know he's covered in tattoos, feeling the same as the rest of the skin, but knowing it's different. I lift his hand up to my lips to leave a kiss on the back of it.

I look back up and his eyes are already looking back at me with a tender expression.

"I really like you, Halley" he says with a careless tone.

"I like you too, Justin" I reply.

"No, but seriously"

"What do you mean?" I ask. 

"I like you, a lot" he shrugs, "and maybe is the wrong time or place, but I wanted to let you know, I really like hanging out with you, and spending time with you, and talking to you, I just really like you".

I wait a moment to let that sink into my core, into my chest, into my heart.

"I like you too, Justin" I cuddle next to him on the car seat, feeling tears slipping down my face even when I thought I didn't have any left. They were tears of relief. Tears of tension I've been holding up until now, because now it really is over.

I've survived to my father's funeral, but that doesn't mean I'm a survivor.