I didn't cry when I found out he was dead. I didn't cry at the funeral. People took it as shock, thinking I didn't know how to handle my emotions. They thought it would come sooner or later. They are wrong. There is nothing wrong with me. I just cant cry. Because crying would mean he is gone, really gone. I cant accept that yet. When I never showed emotion, people thought I was crazy. I lost friends, I lost a lot of people that I thought cared. No one cared, no one cared but me. No one cared about him enough to not let him go except me. Their actions taught me that.
And he was still here, with me. I felt him. I saw him everywhere: In the flowers, in the trees, in my favorite book. He was there looking at me, watching me move. I heard him. He was the wind, he was soft music playing as I walked by, he was that faint ticking of the clock in the long hours of the night when I sat up thinking about him. I knew he was with me, I knew he would never leave. That was a lie. I knew I wasn't ready for him to leave. I wanted him by my side, I needed him. Love had taught me that.
My phone rang, I jumped at the sound of its loud beep.
"Hello?"
"Hey its me."
Taylor knew what day it was. Everyone knew. I could tell by the way they passed me in the halls differently. Not making eye contact, or making sure to step out of my way, giving me extra space in the hallways. People had a nice way of being obnoxious while trying to be subtle. Sympathy had taught me that.
"Hey Tay, whats up?" I asked this question casually. That was my way. I always tried to divert the attention elsewhere besides me. Even though it was his "death day" I didn't understand why I got attention for it. I hadn't died.
"Just checking up on you."
She was trying to be there for me. She was good like that. She knew what to say, knew when to give me space, but knew when to get in my face. She understood me perfectly, a little too perfectly. But she was all I had left, and I needed her now, not him. That was a lie, I needed him just as much as I did before he left. But she was there either way. Best friends were like that. Friendship taught me that.
"Hey, don't worry about me, I'm fine, I just…need to think, that's all ok?"
I tried to sound reassuring, whether or not I was she left it at that.
"Ok babe, call me later."
She was gone.
I sat down on the foot of my bed, pulling out the heavy book. I blew some dust off of it. The white leather looked slightly more faded than it had looked last time. I only allowed myself this simple pleasure on rare occasions. His death fell into that category.
Taylor had made me this book a few months after he died, and I loved her for it. I flipped to the first page. There he was, that familiar young face smiling back at me. Those piercing blue eyes that I loved more than anything. He held a basketball in his hand, his favorite thing in the world, besides me. That's what he always said.
"I love you Brie, youre my favorite thing in the world."
I flipped through a few more pages to one of the two of us. There I was looking up at him. He had one hand on the locker above me, and the other on my waist. I myself was leaning against the locker. We looked so in love, we were so in love, I am still in love. I don't know who had taken this picture, but I remembered this conversation perfectly. I always wondered if the person who captured this photograph, realized they captured such a monumental moment in my life. This was the day he had told me he loved me. Eight months before the accident.
"Brie, Brie come over here," Troy said waiving his hand at me, beckoning me to come towards him. As I did he positioned himself over me, placing his hand on the locker.
"Happy Birthday Brie," he said smiling at me as he leaned down and kissed me. I loved his scent, his lips, his touch. We kissed for a while up against that locker. Who really knew for how long. He broke it and kissed my forehead softly, then leaned in towards my ear and whispered, "I love you Brie, youre my everything."
I shivered as I got up and closed the door to my balcony. I would never forget that day, as long as I lived. Time had a way of stopping, of letting you savor things. It was one of the good qualities of time. It left an imprint in your mind that would never let go. Memories taught me that.
Brie.
I turned quickly. My bed was how it was when I stood up, my room was in the condition it always was.
Brie.
I turned again. My balcony door was wide open, a slight breeze coming into my room, making my white blinds wave.
Brie.
It was coming from the balcony. I walked slowly, for a second I believed I was in fact crazy, everyone was right about me. But then. But then I saw him. Clear as day on my balcony, in the same spot he had stood those few years ago when he sang to me. He was there.
"Troy?"
As I asked this I realized it was the first time I had said his name since the funeral. When I watched him get lowered to the ground. When I watched my life as I knew it slip away in that hole with him.
He opened his arms to me, "It's me Brie, it's me."
I ran tried to collapse myself into his arms, tried to wrap my body around his, let him wrap his around me as we once did. To let him hold me, to let him love me. But I just found myself touching my balcony ledge; I had gone right through him.
"Troy," I asked this confused, dazed, distraught, "why cant I touch you?"
"Its ok Brie, its ok, I'm here that's all that matters," his voice was soothing, it calmed me. It always had.
"Wh—Why are you here?" I asked, even more dazed. There he was, standing before me, like he had never left, he looked the same. His blue eyes gazed into mine, they hadn't lost their sparkle, they hadn't lost their love.
"I came to see you Brie, I needed to tell you to let me go," his face was serious, but still soft. He was like that. He never looked harsh, never towards me at least.
"What? I-I cant," I said this plainly, like it was obvious.
"Brie, its ok Ill always be with you. But I want you to live your life. Don't dwell on me. Our memories alone keep me with you. The love we shared is enough for me to always watch you. I'm here, but I cant just be with you, you have to let me go, you have to set me free."
I stared at him, saying nothing, I couldn't believe what I was hearing, it was his voice. But it was his voice telling me to let go, to move on.
"I'm dead Brie, Ive been dead. I'm gone, but not forever. Ill wait for you Brie, but you have to be willing to wait too. You wont hurt me by living your life, its ok, I lived mine, its only fair you get to live yours."
"But you didn't get to live yours Troy, you were stolen from here, taken," I crossed my arms over my body, the cold air was sending chills down me.
He walked towards me and put his hands on my shoulders, but I couldn't feel him.
"Brie, listen to me. I loved my life, it was complete the day I met you, the day you came into it was the day my life was full. You taught me how to love stronger than I ever thought I could love someone, I found that raw emotion did exist and it was a force to be reckoned with. You taught me that. its whats kept me with you. But Brie, you have to let me go."
I understood what he was asking, and I nodded. I felt I could let him go, now that he had given me reassurance. Its like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
He leaned into me slowly and pressed his lips to mine, but I couldn't feel it. One thing I could in fact feel was our love. Our love that would never die, that never had. It had lasted through everything, including that fateful night. After he kissed me he leaned towards my ear and whispered, "I love you Brie, youre my everything, Ill always be with you."
With that he began to fade, and he was gone. Leaving me on that balcony looking into the night. Emotion filled me as I leaned against the edge of the balcony for support, but I fell to my knees anyway. For the first time in over a year, for the first time since he died, since the funeral, since everything, I cried. The tears came falling like rain, and as if on cue, the rain came too. And somehow I knew, he was crying with me.
From that day I knew that he was waiting for me. He was still there sometimes, in the wind, with me when I was lonely or confused. He would never entirely leave me. Love had a way of staying with you, leaving an imprint of your very soul. Love had a way of helping you get through things. Love had a way of being the solution to everything. Love had a way of helping you let go. He taught me that.