The Paper Airplane

To the right of the window seat in the bottom drawer of the nightstand is where many of my memories of her reside. It has been forever since I have been able to even look at that prison of my heart. The furnished oak wood keeps the photos and all objects that came from  our love locked away, but that only does so much. Countless times I've tried to open it, and countless times I'd unwrap my fingers from the handle and walk away. Now it's been about nine months. No, ten. Maybe a year? I am not sure anymore. The small numbers, colorful lines, and bold letters of the calendar started to blend together after a while. Whatever the case, I am ready. It's time to face the truth.
My trembling hands slowly pull open the wooden cage. Immediately, everything inside overwhelms my senses. I decide to power through and let my eyes wander until they find something to begin with. My hands gravitate toward an item of clothing. Picking it up, I closely inspect the soft object. It's a dark grey, zip-up hoodie with a few light grey stripes going diagonally around the sides. Raising it up to my face, I inhale deeply . Despite being in the drawer for months, it still smells of her. The scent of Sweet Pea fills my nose, and the very day she gave me the hoodie takes over just like a movie playing in my mind. It was a chilly fall day, and we were out hiking on my favorite trail. There was no jacket with me due to it being roughly 70 degrees for the past week. Unfortunately, this is Ohio, and by law, it was destined to be 50 degrees and windy. I was practically shivering out of my clothes, and, having an extra coat, she offered this one to me. Smiling faintly at the memory, I slip on the hoodie and continue digging through the drawer to see what else I could find.
Next, my hands coil around a shoe box decorated with white paint and colorful Sharpies. Knowing immediately what was in the box, my eyes well with tears as I take the lid off, revealing many strips of cheesy photo booth pictures of us. I carefully take the strips out of the box and lay them all down side by side. My eyes slowly scan each one. With each, waves of emotion and memories crash against the shore of my mind. Each strip depicted one of our dates: The serious photos from our first, the goofy ones from our second, The romantic ones from the third when she kissed me for the first time. I will never forget that moment. If I close my eyes, I can almost picture that very booth. The red, velvety curtains surround me and the scent of her Sweet Pea body spray filled my nose, but she is nowhere to be seen. That's when I snap back into reality. Not being able to bear looking at anymore of these, I scoop the remaining photos back into the box and forcefully shut it, now sobbing.
    After a moment of collecting myself, I press on through the drawer. Despite my current state, I reach in and wrap my fingers around a small, transparent glass jar filled with multiple variously shaped and colored objects. The date 7/11/16 is written in my handwriting across the lid of the jar. That was the day we went to the beach. I believe it was our fourth date? No, maybe the fifth. She wanted to take me on a surprise date. We ended up going to the beach, where she proceeded to push me into Lake Erie. I remember chasing her and trying to pull her in with me. She flashed me one of those dazzling smiles that went along with that whimsical laugh I loved so much. Despite not being able to push her in the water for revenge, she made it up to me by helping me find a bunch of beach glass to take home. Once I arrived, I put it in a jar and wrote the date on it. That was a lovely day. I give a half-hearted smile and place it back in the drawer.
I am about to close it when a piece of folded paper catches my eye. I slowly pick up the plane and begin to unfold it. Once opened, my eyes focus on the small, perfect cursive letters spelling out six little words: Hey guess what? I love you!  The first time she had ever said it. It was a spring day. I was sitting on the corner of my bed re-reading " To Kill a Mockingbird" when i heard a tiny thump. At first I ignore it, but it happens again and again. After a short investigation, I pinpointed where the sound was coming from: the window. I crossed the room and peeked outside, only to see her throwing pebbles just like in old love stories. My fingers gripped the edge of the window and pushed it up. The little plane flew in through the window as fast as lightning. Once read, the letter is set on my bed. My heart warmed my chest and a goofy, loving smile greeted her back at the window.
It was in that moment of recollection I lose it. That's when I snapped. My body collapses, sending me to the floor. My vision is blurred from the hot tears and my head throbs  from crying so much. I stay like this for about 45 minutes, after which I pick myself up and sit at my desk.
A piece of paper and a pen lie in front of me. I pick it up and begin. The pen glided across the page like a plane writing phrases of smoke in the sky. It wrote about what I had just done for the past hour and a half. It wrote about how much I've hurt since you've been gone. It wrote about my favorite memory of us. It wrote about everything- everything that I haven't been saying recently. However, it didn't feel right. I crumpled up the page and started fresh. Finally, after hours of writing and rewriting, and restarting, my fingers creased the page and folded it so that it was a paper airplane. After all, it's time I send her one back.
     A small paper airplane lies at the base of a gravestone in the Willoughby Cemetery. Inside, there are seven little words written in shaky handwriting: Hey guess what? I love you too.