Until Ava

Chapter 2

I don't care if Monday's blue
Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too
Thursday, I don't care about you
It's Friday, I'm in love
Monday you can fall apart
Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart
Oh, Thursday doesn't even start
It's Friday, I'm in love

I sat quietly, able to mouth only some one or two words along with The Cure as the music blared through my speakers. Friday morphed from the best day of the week to the worst, when Ruby died. I have to sing, I have to remember her. I have to heal and this is the way, I said to myself, like I did every Friday. I cleared my throat.

Saturday, wait
And Sunday always comes too late
But Friday, never hesitate
I don't care if Monday's black
Tuesday, Wednesday, heart attack
Thursday, never looking back
It's Friday, I'm in love

I sang along quietly.

I repeated the song, and sang a bit louder the next time, and louder and louder, and then as loud as we used to.

It wasn't long until Ruby joined in. I could hear her off-key crooning and my own screech harmonising in beautiful dissonance. I knew her dark brown braids were in the neatest, most perfect bun, her eyes alive, quaint nose wrinkled at the bridge, pearly teeth on display as she sported a wide smile that competed with the sun. Her eyebrows formed the cutest of furrows, like every time she was delighted. Her hands were fisted as she moved her upper body from side to side in the simplest and wackiest of dances, the ruby ring I'd placed on her finger in place, where it belonged. I knew she was dressed in a pressed, crease-less dark blue suit, the very colour of the frame of her glasses. I felt her eyes on me through the glasses, as I smiled, singing along with her. I turned momentarily to look in those eyes.

But there was no one. I was singing, smiling, happy. But alone.

I felt a strong, excruciating tear that made me wonder if my left atrium was still alright. I didn't even know when my voice cut off, but my hand stretched out and silenced The Cure. They weren't curing anything. Not the corona virus disease, not my heartbreak. Maybe I should stop this, stop reliving the memories.

The traffic light blessedly went red, giving me a few minutes to loosen my tie and catch my breath. I rested my head on the steering wheel. That felt so real. I could swear Ruby was sitting beside me. This isn't healthy. I need to see a psychiatrist. Lucas would help me.

'I don't need to see Lucas. No psychiatrists. I just need to do this some more until I get used to it. I should be okay by the end of this year,' I said under my breath. Or the next. Or the next two years. Or maybe never, my mind taunted, because that's what you said last year, and the last. I gulped, trying to swallow the thoughts away.

'I'll be fine.' I insisted, lifting my head. It was good therapy to feel and taste all the grief and sorrow, for a while, to allow myself to experience the agony. But I made sure to be buoyant, careful to displace only as much anguish as I had joy, lest I sank. Physics of the heart.

My fingers drummed on the steering wheel, the sound magnified against the deafening silence. I reached for the sound system, putting on some Adele. Hello to the queen of heartbreak. Hearing my feelings being tunefully spoken back at me, and well, for me, was exactly what some of Adele's songs did, and that was good. Maybe even the best. You think? My mind shot back. I hushed it.

In the darkness of my heart is a shadow of your face
From the deepest part of my regret
I hear the words I wish I'd said
At the dawning of the day
I can't bear to see the light
I make up memories in my head
They help to fill the emptiness you've left