Dirge Without Music Edna St Vincent Millay
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains, - but the best is lost.
The answers quick & keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,
They are gone. They have gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
One night, she's standing in his doorway, stinking up his porch.
She smiles and says, "I heard. I want to help."
Jacob shuts the door in her face.
He'd wake up some mornings in a nervous sweat. He'd reach around himself; feel for her warm body next to his, then sigh, relieved.
Things as good as this don't stay for long. It wasn't an optimistic mantra, but it worked just fine.
Paul's sitting on the couch, scrunching his nose, making faces.
"Bella Swan's back in town." It's less of a question than a statement.
Jacob's sitting with his elbows on his knees, head bowed, hands touching. He nods once, simply.
"I'm sorry," Paul says, and Jake's not sure what he's apologizing for.
This is a scene from a play he's lived through far too many times. The set is always the same, the script is always the same, the only things that change are the characters. Still, they all lack motivation.
Jacob is sitting with his elbows on his knees, head bowed, hands touching, as if he's in prayer.
"I'm sorry."
He nods, and in his mind he's repeating Things as good as that don't stay for long.
Sometimes he wishes that someone would take him by the shoulders, shake him and yell, "It's over! She's gone!"
His friends are too nice.
Bella Swan comes back the next day, just sits on his front steps without knocking. Maybe she thinks she can lure Jacob outside.
She's wrong.
Jake periodically peers out of his window, considers telling her it's too late.
He doesn't.
She sits there for four hours, completely unmoving, only leaves when Billy threatens to tell her dad that she's back.
In nightmares he has, she's returned; she's back for good. She's in his arms, smiling, whispering, kissing his hands, saying, "I love you, I will never leave you."
His eyes shoot open; he sits straight up in bed. He pants, wipes his damp forehead, then reaches around himself, grasps for her warm body next to his.
He remembers, whispers Things as good as that don't stay for long.
Sometimes he goes back to sleep, and sometimes the dream scares him so much that he jumps out of his bed, runs out of his house, and just sits in the middle of the street.
On the third day, she is at the Black house again, and is knocking this time.
Jacob answers the door, stares into her topaz eyes.
"Jacob," she's saying. "Jacob I want to help you. I want to help Leah."
He closes the door, begins to walk away, then turns back and opens the door.
"Tell me what you can do."
This is a scene from a play he's lived through far too many times.
"I'm sorry."
His mind goes black, then lights up again, like an old-time film reel starting up.
They're in bed, and Jacob is holding her tightly to him. She's shivering, but her body is warm. Her teeth are chattering, but her long black hair is soaked with sweat.
He's craning his neck to her ear, cooing, "Leah, Leah."
She's thrashing her body against his, kicking his knees, groaning and sobbing at the same time. Jacob pulls her tighter, "Leah, I love you, I will never leave you."
"Please…" she's mumbling. "Please…"
In his mind he repeats, Things as good as that don't stay for long, but it can never chase away this memory.
The first day after she left, the house was filled with people.
As the days went on, the people began to lessen, the air began to thin.
Then finally, one day, his house was empty. He finally got to let the feeling of loneliness sink in. He had just begun to say to himself "It's over, she's gone," when the doorbell rang and Bella Swan was staring at him through the window in the door.
"If you wanted," she's saying, "Carlisle could be down here in only two hours. He would bring his medical supplies and he'd hook her up to the machines, and figure out what's going on. He could fix her within the privacy of her own home."
Jacob smiles, then laughs.
When he found out, they were making love. He put his hand on the nape of her neck, felt the large heart-shaped bump, and stopped.
"What is this?" he said.
"Why'd you stop?" she said.
Jacob didn't care. He moved himself, sat next to her, naked. She sat up and frowned. "Jacob, why'd you stop?" she repeated.
He brushed the hair away from her back and looked at her neck. The bump was about as big as a half-dollar, slightly purple.
"What is this?" he repeated. Leah said nothing. "What is it?" She looked down, pushed her hair back to its place. "Leah, we have to go see a doctor."
She laughed. "Right now? Aren't we a little busy?"
Jake's jaw dropped. "Be serious. It could be cancer. We have to go see a doctor first thing in the morning."
"What's so funny?" she's saying. "Be serious, Jacob. Leah could die right now, and you're laughing? Carlisle can save her."
It's almost ironic.
He woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee. Leah was sitting at the kitchen table, fully clothed.
"Are you ready?"
Leah blinked, took a sip from her mug, looked up at him again. "I'm not going, Jacob."
He paused for a second, taken aback. "What do you mean?"
She took another sip from her mug. "You can go to the doctor if you want. I'm staying here."
"Leah, don't be ridiculous." The way he said it almost mocked her.
The tables have turned.
She picked up her coffee mug and flung it in the direction of Jacob's head. The cup broke into a hundred pieces, the hot coffee stained the wallpaper. "I'm serious, Jacob! I'm not going there! I'm not going to become a lab rat for them!"
"Don't be-" he started to say. Then the dim realization washed over him.
"I'm sorry," he's saying.
"If you make me go there," she whispered, "They'll take out the tumor and I'll be healed, but then what? Do you think they won't study it? Do you think they won't find out about us? If you want to become a science experiment, then go straight ahead. I'm not putting myself through that. I would rather die a million times than become their little lab toy."
Bella's face sinks.
"I love you, Jacob, please believe me when I say that. But if you make me go there, they are going to take me away from you. Neither of us wants that. What we have is good."
Things as good as this don't last for long
