The Definition of Fate

Prologue

There is one who you belong to,
Whose love--there is no song for
And though you know it's wrongful,
There is someone else you long for.
Your heart was once a vessel,
It was filled up to the brim;
Until the day he left you,
Now everything sings of him.
Of the two who came to love you,
To one your heart, you gave.
He is in all the stars above you--
In the love you came and stayed.

- Lang Leav

Two years exactly. It's been two years to the day since I saw Josh or talked to him. Two years since I felt his arms wrapped around me. Two years since I watched him walk away from me. Two years since a shadow fell over my life.

I thought things would get better. I knew it would take time for me to heal; love like ours doesn't come around everyday, nor does it often end in such a burning cataclysm of injured trust and destroyed hopes. Maybe it only comes around once in a lifetime. I thought that after two years, however, I'd recover. I thought I would be able to wake up one morning and see sunshine and beauty again, but no. It's not that I'm always sad; it's that my happiness is tainted by the love I lost.

I thought I would stop loving him, but I haven't.

Persuasion by Jane Austen has always been my favorite book. Even when I was in high school, I thought it was so romantic how after years and years apart, Captain Wentworth still loved Anne Elliott and she still loved him. I thought that unrequited love was a blessing not a curse.

Now I'm older, and I see my folly. I've loved Josh Hunter for four years, and from the very beginning, I knew I would never stop. I don't think I ever will. It's not the same as it was when I was younger, not the wild-burning forest fire set out to incinerate me. He doesn't occupy my every thought like he used to. I don't wince every time I meet someone named Josh or see the color of his eyes in the sky. But he's there, he's always there, the embers he left behind burning me from the inside out.

He's in the back of my mind when I laugh at a joke. He's the underlying sadness that makes me squeeze my eyes shut and draw in a sharp breath when I notice something that brings back a spasm of memory. He's the reason for my sighs and contemplative stares through rain-covered windows. He's the subject of both my dreams and nightmares. He's always there; he's never there.

Two years ago today, Josh and I fell apart as easily as we fell together, as easily as I fell in love with him. We were college sweethearts who took too long to come together. He gave me both the happiest and saddest moments of my life, from our first kiss to the moment he ruined everything we had. Though he apologized and tried to make things right, it was too late for us. I couldn't trust him again. After that night, after I refused his attempts at reconciliation and he walked away, we never saw each other again.

Sometimes I think refusing to forgive him was the worst decision I ever made, and sometimes I think it was the best.

I often wonder what would have happened if I'd accepted his apology. Could I have learned to trust him again? Would we be happy now? Married? With children? My life could look so different than it does now. The thought turns my stomach with longing. The what-ifs always look prettier than the present, and a what-if future with Josh sometimes sounds like a dream.

Then again, I can't say that I regret ending things with Josh. I couldn't trust him anymore. I had given him too much of myself, and he broke me. I gave him my youth, my first love, my very soul, and if I hadn't ended things, he could have walked away with my heart in tow. If I had stayed with him any longer, he might have broken me beyond repair. I needed space to recover, to let my heart heal, to see things with clearer vision.

Even though I don't regret my choice to say goodbye, that doesn't mean that I don't long for a second chance. I wonder all the time what would happen if he came back, if I saw him on the street or ran into him at work. Would we be the same, would we still be us? Could I learn to trust him again? Would he be a man instead of a boy, wiser and stronger and better? However, I know the truth: The only way we could have a second chance is if he changed but we stayed the same.

For the second time, I tell myself this will be the last year I spend in mourning, but I know that's a lie. I will never be able to forget Josh or stop loving him; it's an impossibility. I gave him too much of myself--my youth, my innocence, my heart--to ever get it back. I can't stop loving him, but that doesn't mean I need to stay rooted in the past. Someday, eventually, I need to move on. I need to find love with someone new. I need to let his picture fade to black and white, a warm memory of my college days.

Someday, but not today.

I unlock my phone and scan through my albums until I find the one I want. Josh. In it, I see the pictures we took together. His arm around my waist as I lean against him when we first went to the spring dance. Us lying on our backs on a picnic blanket at the top of the ski hill. The beautiful book store he took me to. There are countless others, and in all of them, I'm smiling, really smiling, and Josh is too. In my favorite picture, we're staring at each other, completely oblivious to my roommate taking the picture. We were enamored with each other, so lost in each other that I never thought we'd return. Some days I feel like I'm still wandering around searching for the home I found in him.

I've memorized the twinkle of his blue eyes and the laugh lines around them, the dimples at the corners of the lips that used to kiss me, the shape of his broad shoulders and strong arms. Despite what I do remember, some memories are fading. A few weeks ago, I realized that I couldn't remember his laugh, and I sobbed for an hour behind an old oak tree near my apartment. I can't remember the feeling of his hands in mine or the way he'd stand behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist. I can't remember.

I reach my fingers up to wipe the tears from my face. I don't weep like I used to; the loud, embittered sobs have abated. But I still cry. I cry all the time. I cry when I see someone who looks like him and for a split second I allow myself to believe that he's come back for me. I cry when I replay his old voicemails that I've saved on my phone.

I do believe that it will get better some day. I believe the pain will fade, that I'll move on, that Josh won't be my first and last thought. But today's not that day.

I loved Josh Hunter.

A lot of people have tried to tell me that I never loved him, that it was just a childish infatuation, but I know they're wrong. I loved him more than I've ever loved anyone or thing, and I won't ever stop.

I don't know how to recover from a love like that.

~~~~~

Guys, it's here! Book two! Josh and Rachel's story isn't over yet, so I'm excited to share with you what comes next for our two favorite lovebirds. For now, check out the prologue and add this story to your library. Updates are coming soon!