I was alone tonight, the night of all nights. Independence day. Our favorite holiday. Used to be we'd set off fireworks till our wallets ran dry, then we'd drive around with the windows down and wait for someone else to light them up. My favorite fireworks were the purple ones, but he always liked the green ones, and we'd argue about that. Those were the only sorts of arguments we had because none of us had the sort of energy it took to argue about anything else.
But on this night of all nights, I was miles from home and the only lights above were the stars and fireflies. The lake stretched out far, wide, deep—so deep. I'd been avoiding this place. "The last place," I'd been calling it. The last place I'd seen him, the last place he'd seen anyone. They'd never found his body. It was still down there, somewhere, with his ankles tied down to the rocks he'd used to drown himself. No one could ever prove that he'd killed himself, but I'd always known he had. He'd called me up that night to tell me goodbye, blabbering about losing family, years ago, and that he hated being alone. I tried to tell him that wasn't true, that he had me. But apparently I didn't count.
There is nothing, nothing ever, in this whole world, that's more painful than hearing you're not worth sticking around for, even when all you do is try to be. Nothing.
I ran to the last place because I knew him better than anyone else. Of course he'd be here. Before he'd ruined it, this was a good place. We used to be happy here. His car was parked in the grass, but he was gone. Or maybe he hadn't been. Maybe he'd still been drowning at the bottom, maybe he was still in pain, and maybe I was just waiting here while he died and...
Anyway, I called 911 first. Then I got into his car, because he'd given me a key ages ago, and found a note he'd left for me. It said, "Forgive me. I love you. I'm sorry." It said more than that. He'd also told me that I was beautiful, that I deserved a full life with somebody, but he couldn't be that for me. And a lot of other stuff. But it was all summed up in those first three short sentences. Forgive me. I love you. I'm sorry.
And so I was all alone tonight, graced by the fireflies, alive by the twinkling stars. I held in one hand a bible and in the other a toy sailboat. He had this fantasy that one day he'd build himself a boat and take us somewhere far away.
"You're a liar," I told him and slipped the boat into the water. As it drifted down the stream, I whispered the story of Elijah at the mountain, when he was so alone that he begged the Lord to take his life, but was able to be comforted by a simple promise: God said to him, "I will preserve 7,000 who have not bowed down to Baal."
The wind had taken the boat far off. I turned around so I didn't have to see it sink.
"I'm sorry, too," I told him. "You were wrong. I wanted you here. You could have been brave enough. But I didn't come here to tell you goodbye. That's your business. I came here because this the last place I could ever be angry with you. Because I'll forgive any man that I love." I dragged my hands down my face. "You better thank God for that. I might've decided to hate you if it wasn't for Him."
And to God I said, "If he is in hell, then please take care of Elijah, who was brave enough to learn that he wasn't alone."
I left the last place for the last time in a long time. With my windows down, I heard the cracks and bangs of fireworks. There were colors of purple, colors of green, and all the others. On this night of all nights, I could not be, completely, alone. And, for once, everything was beautiful.
