My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.
First Love
When it's quiet, when I'm all alone, when there's nothing to distract me, I think about Jackson. I try not to dwell on the negative things, the bad things, only the good times... on the laughter and the loving... and despite what people might think, despite how it might have looked to some, there was plenty of that.
Maybe I should feel guilty about remembering, but I don't, I'm not hurting anyone, I'm not hurting Ed, and anyway I can't be expected to bury all those memories, can I? It's enough that I had to bury Jackson. I promised him I would never forget him and I won't, I couldn't, even if I tried. I still love him, I always will. Even though today is supposed to be a special day shared by Ed and me, I find myself wanting to remember the first man I loved too, the first man who loved me. I want to remember what was once 'us'.
Ed's not here, he left early, but not before waking me up with a kiss and a card. He'd stared hopefully at me, I know he half expected me to have forgotten what day it is, most probably thinking that even if I had remembered, that I'm not into that romantic kind of stuff and so wouldn't have bothered anyway. But I have remembered, and I have bothered. I got him a Valentine's card too, and although the message I've written inside it isn't as soppy as the one he's written to me, he's happy with it, more than happy, over the moon, in fact. He left the flat grinning like a Cheshire cat. The fact that one little gesture had such an effect on him made me happy, too. He knows I love him and just how much... so no, my memories of Jackson pose no threat to him.
I'd have preferred a quiet night in, but he tells me he's planned a night out, a meal for two and then some clubbing, We'll have a great time I know, we'll roll in at daft o'clock and then tumble into bed... ending the night on a real high.
Yeah, there will be plenty of time for me and Ed later, but for now, it's Jackson I want to spend some time with.
I don't cry anymore when I think of him, and my heart doesn't ache, but I do feel a tinge of sadness, of loss... because he'll always be the 'something missing' in my life, the part of me that's missing,
I'd like to think he knows how I feel, that I haven't forgotten him or stopped loving him. I'd like to think that there's more, that he didn't just close his eyes, that it wasn't really 'the end'. I'd like to think he's somewhere safe and whole again. But then I suppose everyone likes to think that way, it offers more comfort than words of sympathy or understanding ever can.
But because there's doubt, because there's no actual 'knowing', I'm always left feeling the need to do something, to physically demonstrate what's in my heart and in my head; even if he doesn't know, the rest of the world will.
I know what I'd like to do, I got the idea from a film I watched the other night. It was a weepy and a half, the sort of film that would turn Paddy to mush, the sort I used to call him a woman for watching. Well, I sat there watching it just like he would have done, my excuse being that Ed was at training and there wasn't much else on. I could have changed channels at any time, but no, the heartbreak and the loss held my attention, the red rose left on the grave stirred my emotions and as the titles scrolled down the screen, tears rolled down my cheeks. What a wimp!
It got me thinking though, Jackson used to tease me about giving him flowers, I never did and I probably never would have done even if he'd lived to be a hundred, but… I could place some on his grave, couldn't I? In memory of what we had, what we were to each other and what he will always mean to me.
I could if I was there, but I'm not likely to go back to Emmerdale, not ever, no matter how much I might want or need to.
I'll just have to imagine placing a red rose against his headstone… I'll just have to cling to the hope he knows how I feel.
I glance at the bedside clock, tell myself I can't lie here any longer as much as I'd like to. I'm going to be late for work if I don't get a move on.
I toss back the duvet and get out of bed. I might be getting on with my day, but I'm not ready to leave Jackson behind yet. My head's full of memories of him even as I shower and dress.
I know once I leave the flat I'll have little time to think about anything but work, that I'll have to concentrate on the job at hand, mistakes are costly. Ed'll be home before me and when I walk in through the door, it's got to be just me and him, so I sit back down on the edge of the bed, close my eyes and send some loved-filled thoughts skywards, whispering 'I love you' before opening them again. I just wish I knew for sure that Jackson…
My eyes widen with surprise, my heart misses a beat. There, next to the clock, alongside my phone, is a single red rose. It wasn't there before, I know it wasn't. I'd have seen it. I couldn't have missed it.
I stare at it, mystified by its presence. I can't explain it being there, I just know Ed didn't leave it… that it's definitely not from him… but if he didn't leave it then…
I reach out and with trembling fingers pick it up. The bloom is of the deepest red, is perfect in form, and its perfume… although delicate, it fills the entire room.
Tears form and fall... I know who it's from, I know who placed it there... I can sense him around me now… my first love.
End.
