The Quarterback

Overtime

That is the ending that I so desperately wish was real for us.

You see, the point of this exercise was to write a memoir about a major event in my life. When it was given to me, I knew instantly what to write about. I had a great idea, but it would only work with some tweaks. I needed to make those tweaks, for your sake, my sake, and Thalia's sake.

And the rules were that I could fictionalize details, yes, but only if I conceded which details were true and which weren't. So I will do so now, to end this exercise and finish the story for good. Writing this was almost too much for me to bear, so I'm glad I got it all out. I feel much better now that it is all down on paper and not inside me.

I am doing very well in my college life, and I would not trade it for anything in the world. However, Thalia was never a student at the University of Virginia, nor was she ever my fiancé. She died before all that could happen.

It was a nasty, nasty hit-and run. On the day that we were walking to the restaurant (everything up to that point happened, including my proposal plans), we were crossing a busy street, when Thalia got rammed by an SUV and launched into the air. I was a few steps behind, so I did not take the hit, thank God. She flew like a rag doll and hit the ground hard. In that moment, I was seized with all sorts of feelings. The driver fled the scene, and by the time the paramedics arrived, they determined that she was killed instantly.

I didn't even get to say goodbye.

Those last few days in San Mateo were so sad. Not just because I had lost the love of my life, but because everyone was so mushy with me and that made me feel even worse. Or maybe not worse, but more intensely. I wanted to feel nothing.

It felt like an emotional black hole – there was no way out. I couldn't come to any conclusion or solution that made me feel any better, because nothing could bring Thalia back. I know it wasn't my fault, but that makes me feel just as bad, as there seemed to be no reason for it.

Why does life bring such cruel turns? To that question, I cannot give an answer. But I do know this: there's a reason for everything.

Everyone in my circles at the University of Virginia knew about what had happened on my arrival. They constituted the most comforting, supportive environment I could ever have, and I am forever indebted to them for that. They had my back when my back was against the wall.

It is so easy to be warm yet indifferent to someone in a time like this. One of the best examples of this is the phrase, "It is going to be okay." I knew that it would never be completely okay. And I was willing to accept that. But my fellow students who knew, they were willing to accept it with me. And I treasure that, because it is so much deeper and more meaningful that simply saying, "It is going to be okay."

Going back to my point about there being a reason for everything, I have not found the reason for Thalia's death at that exact moment. Not yet, at least. I am almost sure that I will never love anyone like that again, not only because of loss aversion, but also because I don't think that it's worth it in the end, at least most of the time.

I'll always miss Thalia, though. She always said that your life is a gift, so you should make it a gift to as many people as possible. Her life was a gift to me, and I know that she would say the same in an instant. And I believe that her essence lives on in the many lives that she touched. I also grieve for her family and all the people who loved her. But the quote still holds true: "After a concert, we don't mourn the end of the concert; we celebrate it."

No one can fathom what happens after one dies. But if Thalia is in a better place, and I am sure she is, I hope to join her one day. But I will never let that hope get in the way of living my life.

When I originally conceived this idea for a memoir, I decided to tell the real events as they happened. As I worked on it, that was the plan.

Yet as you know, I decided to change the story of my life, because I wanted to have us together and happy in at least some form or another. The sadness that came with the loss of Thalia is unbearable to me, and I wanted more than anything to make us happy somehow, and I struggled for options. I decided on this memoir, because it was the easiest way, and when one is grieving, it is hard for him to accept a challenge.

And so I wrote us a happy ending, because I wanted to give us what we wanted, the only thing that we wanted, at least in fiction. I remember the first moment I had this idea. It was in my creative writing class during my second semester at Virginia. We were assigned a semester project of a memoir about a major event in our life, and while I admit it is obvious, I chose to write about this story.

I remember very well the day I started. I learned the principle of hooking readers, so I racked my brains for a way to start. I decided on a good one, and began my story:

"I now believe, by the way, that love is a dangerous experiment."