S A R A

Ch 46

46

9 months later

My fingers fumbled with the stack of letters consisting of contracts and bills.

My father, clearly seeing that I was lost in a bit of a daze, asked me "you're not thinking about going back to him, are you?"

"What?" I was shaken out of my daydream, "no, of course not." I said as it was the most obvious thing in the world, wide awake now.

"Good," my dad said curtly while using scissors to open up a cardboard box full of my clothes.

We were unpacking the boxes of shit that I had to pack in a bit of a frenzy. Though this whole process has been stressful for me, it was still not as bad as what I had to face 3 months ago. Since then, I put my head down and stayed close to the metaphorical shore that is my family home.

Now I was moving into my very own apartment for the very first time.

"Do you think..." I started, then changed my mind. I was across the country in New York City and I had a feeling that this time I shouldn't be doing anything too crazy or stupid, the way I used to when I was younger. Not that 3 months ago is a long time, but it was for me.

"Look, Sara," Dad started, "even if you have an ounce of being unsure, we can just turn this whole thing around right now. The boxes aren't even unpacked."

"No, no of course not." I said followed by a silence that seemed a bit unsure.

"You understand that it'll be much harder to turn this ship around once you've started your whole new life," he stated rhetorically.

"I'm alright," I said sternly, because I really had to be in order for this to work.

I looked at my father. I loved him so much, but I also knew I had to live my own life.

My dad sighed and continued opening up the boxes.

I got up and shook off the feeling of uncertainty that was looming over me, and walked over to the balcony, which absolutely was not that far. I had a studio. Being able to afford anything more in this city would be preposterous.

I got out in search of fresh air. And even though NYC was not exactly the epitome of fresh air, it was such a breath of relief. The magic in the air was practically electric. This city had an electricity running through its streets and a power which was bigger than any individual person. Bigger than any heartbreak.

And then, ding, speak of the devil. I got a notification about his stupid concert that I for some reason though it would be a good idea to click Interested on Facebook several months ago.

Tickets are Now Available

Though he wasn't necessarily living in the same city as I do now, anymore; he was still coming to New York City for a show. Or to be more concrete, 3 shows in a row at the Garden. Of course.

I quickly dismissed my phone and went back into the teeny apartment that was small but, nevertheless, mine.

-

After an apprehensive goodbye from my father, I found myself sitting alone on the couch, not sure where to start.

My phone, my damn piece of technology, was on the coffee table in front of me. I was so tempted to reach out and check, well, everything.

I admit, though I have been good, I haven't been perfect.

I didn't have any Google Alerts or anything, but every once in a while, I did a quick check on him, just to...I don't know. Make sure he's okay?

No, that couldn't be it.

But somehow, after all that, no matter how separate our lives were it still gave me some comfort knowing that he was somewhere, living out his.

Okay, I broke a little bit and checked the date of the NYC shows.

They were almost exactly 3 months ahead.

A short time and yet a long time. I smile to myself thinking how much can change in 6 months, and then frown thinking about how much can also stay the same.

I got up and made myself some coffee to get my mind off of things.

Only recently, have I starred to be able to do little mundane activities without thinking of him.

Like, before, every part of my day was marked by comparison to how I spent it with him, or how he did something.

His hands...

I knew that it was dangerous to remember memories, each time a slight change to a point that you almost don't know what the truth is anymore.