It's been almost four years without him.
Four years since the crash.
Killing him and leaving me here alone to suffer.
He took my heart with him.
I stand here at his grave with my hands stuff in my pockets. My shoulders hung foreword from the cold. I guess it's good that I'm left with good memories. Nothing really ever bad happened between us, let alone to us until the crash.
Of course we fought but it never got like I had to witness growing up. That was – that was brutal. Robbie was reasonable. He actually made fighting with him almost easy. Sometimes.
Sometimes he would get angry. He would leave and walk to the park across the street and cool off or he would drive until he felt better. If I got angry enough I would do the same.
He was driving the night of the accident.
I said something about not going home for the holidays and it seemed to upset him. I'd rather it just be us. I didn't want to be stuffed in a house with nagging family members for a weekend. It was something we always did. I understand why he was upset now but I didn't then. It didn't seem like a big deal.
I kicked at the grass around his grave. The groundskeeper really doesn't get to do much work up here. It is on a hill after all. I brushed my bare fingers over the snow resting on top. It would soon melt when the sun pulls over the hill.
His last request was really for me to go home..
It is Christmas Eve and I don't think I could stand another moment of my loud neighbors celebrating. My mother quit bothering me after a while. She thinks I just swallowed what was left of my soul and drowned in my bed. I did for two years. But I finally got sick of myself and day by day I slowly returned to my life- just without Robbie.
Pulling in my mothers driveway on Christmas Eve wasn't really what I ever intended on doing. The curtains of the front widows were pulled open and everything looked perfectly okay. Everyone at the table and smiling. No one noticed me pulling in.
Somehow I ended up on her front porch with snow in my shoes and my heart on the floor.
The front door flew open before I could knock.
"Thomas saw your car." My mothers eyes looked distant.
"Okay." I whispered. I really couldn't breathe.
"Are you just going to stand there in the cold or come in?"
"I'm not quite sure."
I think my toes are blue and my nose is going to fall off. She would have scolded me by now.
"Come in. I need to give you something anyways." My feet couldn't move. "He would've wanted you to have it."
I could feel my shoulders slip up from interest. "What?"
Going inside and following my mother down the hall wasn't what I wanted to be doing. I didn't really feel welcome here. She made her way in to her room and I waited outside the door.
I watched her dig through her nightstand. The floor creaking at the end of the hall grabbed my attention. My brother Thomas stood there. The same distance in his eyes as my mother. We just stared at each other without saying a word. And somehow that was enough.
My mother placed her hand on my arm and shoved a box and a slip of paper in my hands. My lips parted and I looked at her. "Is this a joke?"
She shook her head. "He gave it to me to hold on to because he knew he'd lose it. He was supposed to give it to you that Christmas."
My entire body turned into mush.
"You don't have to stay."
I didn't want to. It'd just be nothing but silence.
I opened the paper.
Do you ever wonder?
Yeah I did. Quite often.
My thumb pushed the box open and his grandmothers ring sat inside. I watch his mother give it to him. I just never thought at the time he'd give it to me.
But he was.
