~Almost Lover~
She's not family. Well, not like the others are, at any rate. They haven't known each other long enough to have built that sort of bond.
She's not a friend. Not really. She's wanted so much more than that from the very first meeting on. She'd settled for friendship, always hoping that the little spark between them would set them ablaze eventually.
She's not the significant other. That honor befalls the man sitting front row and center, surrounded by people who are family. Who are friends.
She's not the other woman. In the wee hours, with Beethoven on the stereo and whiskey on her breath, she's imagined just taking what she wants, somehow knowing she'd be welcomed to do exactly that. She knows she could've been, had she desired so, but she's never wanted to cause even more ripples in the already taxing existence of her would-be paramour. They'd almost kissed once. Agreed they shouldn't then never spoke of it again. They should have. It lingered.
She's not last in line, though not far from it. She didn't warrant an invitation, no one in the know of the feelings she's harboring for the woman they're honoring today.
She didn't go to see her when the opportunity arose. They would never agree to let her spend a moment alone inside the sterile chamber housing the stone cold outer shell of what used to be such a warm and powerful body. All the things she should've said but never will. No words will change anything between them now. She's too late. To never know if she's loved in return will serve as just punishment for her procrastination.
She's cold. The sun beating down on her shoulders and on the back of her neck does nothing to heat up her frozen bones. She'll never be warm again.
She's in denial. She looks everywhere but at the lacquered black box hovering over a six foot deep hole in the ground. She scoffs at the simplicity of the casket. Such a plain solution to lay to rest such a remarkable woman. She knows it doesn't really matter. Dead is dead. The person left behind under piles of dirt won't think or feel anything of it.
She's startled by her own thoughts. An image of a lifeless body inside that shiny casket suddenly grips her. She can't think of anything else. Pale, rubbery skin. Stiff lips, discolored by death. Lids forever closed over those beautiful blue eyes, never treating anyone to a peek at them ever again.
She's crying. She mourns with every fiber of her being. She feels Jess wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to a body also trembling with grief. Jess knows. About her love and her loss and the wasted opportunities. Jess doesn't ask questions because she already knows the answers. Though small, it's the only amount of solace she can find and she's grateful for it. It's her only lifeline.
She hears the words spoken by a heartbroken mother. A sister shares moments of life and laughter but ends up in tears. The boyfriend sits passively, staring at the portrait to the left of podium and Lena could kick him for showing no emotion. She knows it's not fair to think like that because mourning is such a personal experience, but how can he not cry when family and friends can't seem to do anything but while they say goodbye to their daughter, their sister, their friend.
She shuffles along with the rest of the crowd when asked to pay to their last respects before the casket is lowered into the ground and the woman she loves will be gone from her life for good. She knows she will never be strong enough to visit a headstone that will only remind her of who's underneath it, in what capacity and what that means for her.
She wants to remember the good parts. The light emitted. The fierceness displayed. The loyalty shown. And, despite not knowing the nature of it, the love freely given. If there's one thing she will take away from it all, it's the learning how to love. She'll be forever grateful though she'll never love again.
She keeps walking when she reaches the front. There is just no way in hell she'll be able to keep her composure. With a quick nod to the family to pay her silent respects, she feels her feet pick up speed, striding away in body, but leaving behind her heart and soul in a graveyard she will never come back to.
"Goodbye, my almost lover."