Brooklyn, he did what he did. It is time to move on.
Brooklyn, he can't be alone at a delicate time like this.
Brooklyn, this is the least we can do.
Brooklyn, the man is clearly lonely!
Brooklyn, we have to bring him over here. He needs this. We must do this one thing for him.
It has been a game of tennis inside my head between Will and Mom. I had run like a coward leaving him to drive himself home after his shock reveal. I had somehow managed to abandon yet another person just as they had ultimately begun to open up and make a difference.
With all the conversations around death, I had unwittingly traversed back to the centre of my brain which houses the memories of Anastasia. How steadily she declined and how unnoticed, always afraid to ask for too much, always afraid to be overbearing and always afraid of taking too much space.
Somehow, despite what we had shared, I had forgotten most of what her last days were like. I cannot remember what we had spoken about or if we had spoken at all. I do not remember if I had told her that I loved her and that she gave me a lifetime. What I do remember is that I never got to say goodbye and her aftermath came very close to destroying me forever.
Now faced with another such possibility, I sit at my garden under the dying dusk sky, grappling to remember how it was that I survived that. Anything close to a step by step manual.
I hate the feeling of forgetting. It makes recovery so much harder.
But I had tougher choices to make this time.
Somehow with Anastasia, I had still been on the backend of things. Yes, I loved her. But some people loved or knew her more and had her life placed directly into their hands, lying at their discretion.
Years after Anastasia and the divorce, I had been in touch with Steve, her father. I even sent him the first few copies of my first publication.
I could call him. He could tell me how to be strong and how to do the right thing.
I fiddle with my phone for a bit before giving up the pursuit. For the first time, I want to do something by myself. I want to be the first person to take the fall if it spares my family.
I want to be what my father wasn't.
I pick up my phone again and skip the step of calling his secretary. Instead, I dial straight to him.
I look back at Will watching me through the screen. She smiles back. She mouths 'I love you' to me. I mouth it back to her.
Instead of the phone ringing. I hear her voice whisper "No one deserves to be lonely" over and over again.
* * *
YOU ARE READING
Till Next Time | completed | currently under re-edit
Dla nastolatków#1 on Paralysis. #9 on Suicide Awareness #13 on Bullying Awareness. #19 on Anxiety Disorder. #22 on Wattpad India Brooklyn Baxter is rich. The world is his oyster but he is trapped inside the shells of his own mind. But rich kids do not get sad. Aft...
