Standard Disclaimer: The world of Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.
For Mom, I love you, and I miss you.
Remission
It's been twenty-six years since my very existence was shattered by a beautiful boy who completely owned my heart, my soul, my hope and my love.
He told me he was leaving, that he didn't want me to go with him. I had managed to string together words to form a sentence that made no sense to me, "You… don't… want… me?"
His honey-colored eyes, once so warm and loving, were now cold and distant as he regarded me with indifference. With his answer, one simple word, "No," my world came crashing down around me.
He used to tell me how much he loved me, that I was his life. I wanted to stay with him forever, literally. More than anything, I wanted him to make me like him, but he always refused. Now I understand why he didn't want to change me. It made sense that he didn't love me. It had just taken him a while to realize how insignificant I was when compared to him.
He promised me peace without reminders - that my life would continue as if he had never existed. He lied. Twenty-six years have passed by since he left me, and not one single day of those twenty-six years has gone without thoughts of him… and I know he has never given me a second thought.
It was so hard at first; I couldn't even pick up the fragments of my heart and soul. Love, life, meaning, it was all so far beyond my reach without him there to hold me together. Discarded, left behind and forgotten. I missed him so much, and his family that I had grown to think of as my own - it hurt to even breathe.
Months drifted by in a gray haze. I went through the motions to keep my dad, Charlie, from sending me to live with my mom, Renee, in the perpetual sunshine of Jacksonville. I couldn't bring myself to leave the cool, lush dampness of Forks; I had to stay in the last place where I knew he had been.
I eventually realized that if I was doing something reckless or stupid, I could hear his voice telling me not to, trying to keep me safe, as he had always done when we were together. I guess I really was losing my mind – as if he actually cared. One of those attempts brought me to Jacob.
While driving my ancient red truck aimlessly through Forks one evening, I found two old motorcycles left on the curb to be picked up with the trash - inspiration struck! I could take them to Jacob to repair. What could be more reckless or stupid than for me to ride a motorcycle?
Sweet Jacob, my best friend, tried so valiantly to put the jagged pieces of my heart back together; but like shards of shattered glass… my heart could never be pieced back together. Spending time with Jacob helped me survive the darkest days of my life – he was warmth, my own personal sun. He wanted so much for us to be more than friends. But I couldn't give him the remnants of my fractured heart, I just couldn't.
It was through my final encounter with a vampire that I found out that Jacob was a werewolf. Foolishly believing I would hear his voice again in the place that was ours alone, I found my way back to the beautiful meadow that I had once shared with him. To my surprise, I was approached by Laurent, one of the three nomadic vampires that his family had tried to protect me from in the past. The Cu… they had killed his coven leader, James, but James' mate, Victoria, had escaped.
I was happy at first to see Laurent, proving to me that my experiences with him and the rest of his family were not a figment of my imagination. Laurent had gone to Denali, Alaska to meet his "cousins," another group of golden-eyed vampires that existed on the blood of animals. I knew immediately when I saw Laurent's sinister burgundy eyes that he wasn't following the Denali's diet. He had been sent by Victoria to check on me, since she planned to kill me as revenge for her mate. "A mate for a mate," Laurent explained.
Ha! If they only knew how wrong they were. I was not his mate. I had only been a temporary distraction for him. He made it crystal clear that I was nothing to him when he left me.
Laurent humanely decided to make a quick meal out of me rather than let Victoria torture me slowly and painfully, but several giant wolves suddenly appeared from the woods and chased him away. One of the wolves seemed hauntingly familiar as it passed; it paused momentarily and gave me a look that was almost human. It resembled the reddish-brown wolf I had dreamed of the night Jacob told me that he was a vampire, even though Jacob had laughed the story as a tribal myth at the time.
After that incident, Jacob began avoiding me, and although it was a tiny fraction of the pain of him leaving me, it still hurt. I finally confronted Jacob to find out what was wrong. He was forbidden by his Alpha, Sam, to explicitly reveal his secret; instead, he asked me to remember the legend he had told me about his tribe, the Quileute. It took me a while to recall that he'd said his people were descended from wolves, but when I did, I realized that my sweet Jacob had become a werewolf!
At first I thought he and his pack were killing humans, but when he assured me that their only purpose is to protect people from vampires, it dawned on me that vampires were responsible for the recent deaths in the area. Victoria… No!
Jacob reassured me that the pack would take care of Victoria, just like they got rid of Laurent. They "patrolled" constantly, and I ended up seeing very little of Jacob. Bored out of my mind, I decided to occupy myself by cliff-jumping. I had seen the Quileute boys laughing hysterically as they hurled themselves off the top precipice, plummeting down toward the ocean waves below. Surely I would hear him again if I jumped off a cliff.
As it was, I nearly ended up killing myself when I plunged in the rough water, caught by the current and unable to find my way to the surface. I heard his velvet voice desperately urging me to swim to the surface. I was ready to give in and let the water take me, because I not only heard him, but I actually saw him. For the first time since he left me, I felt happiness there with his phantom, as I sank further into the dark water. Unfortunately, the next thing I felt was Jacob pounding the water out of my lungs after he pulled me from the murky depths and dragged me onto the shore.
That was the same day Harry Clearwater, one of Charlie's best friends, died from a heart attack. It certainly changed my perspective on my foolish behavior.
I never did hear his voice again after that day.
A few weeks later, there was a huge commotion in the woods behind my house, and before I could process what was happening, Jacob had jumped through my window and abducted me from my room. He ran with me in his arms all the way to First Beach, where the pack was celebrating the end of Victoria. They had finally caught her and were burning her remains in a giant bonfire.
Jacob's warm arms around me felt comforting, but so different from the cold that I craved with every molecule of my being. He took my chin in his hand and slowly leaned toward me, but I stopped him before his lips reached mine.
I wouldn't let myself be ripped apart again. If I had chosen to stay with Jacob, I would have lived every single day in fear that it would be the last day he truly loved me. I had learned that the Quileute wolves found their soul mates through "imprinting," an involuntary and irreversible process. One day, they would see their imprint and the universe suddenly revolves around that person. The threat of Jacob imprinting on someone else would always hang over our heads, and I knew I wouldn't survive losing what little of my heart was left.
I'd seen it firsthand.
I watched Leah Clearwater, Harry's daughter, die a little each day after the love of her life, Sam, imprinted on her cousin Emily. Sam and Leah had been together through most of high school, and everyone knew they would eventually marry. They were perfect together. Then one night when Emily was visiting, Sam took one look at her and forgot that Leah existed. It reminded me so much of that day in the woods, when he left and my world came crashing to its end… In a way I think it was worse for her because she had to see him all the time, see the light in his eyes as they shone only for Emily. Maybe I was lucky after all that I never had to see him looking at someone else with such love in his eyes - truly that would be the death of me.
Eventually high school ended and I went on to complete college, establish a career, marry, all in accordance with the plan for my life before he entered it and turned my world upside down.
I came out of my shell in college – went to parties, drank too much, made alcohol-fueled decisions – for all intents and purposes, I was an ordinary student without a care in the world. I tried to forget. I wanted to be rid of his ghost and the memories, to exorcise the demons of my past.
It never worked.
After college, a job opportunity came up that took me far away from the cold and rain of Forks to the heat and humidity of the Gulf Coast. It is there that I met the man who would become my husband. I never told him about the love of my life; it was my secret to keep for the rest of my days. We eventually married and had two beautiful sons who bring endless joy and happiness to everyone around them. I watched them grow and succeed, loved by family and friends, and my heart swells with gratitude to have been blessed with them.
Those looking in from the outside see my life as happy. I keep my thoughts and feelings about him buried deep inside. I have a wonderful husband, beautiful kids, and a great career. And I love them, truly I do. But I wish I didn't have this dark place in my heart, eating away at my soul like a cancer, day after day, night after night.
I pray every night that I will sleep without dreaming. I pray that I won't be woken up by my own cries, gasping for breath because I dreamed of him, feeling him slip from my arms as I fall into a void that can never be filled. Thank God that I outgrew my sleep-talking; my husband will never know what haunts my dreams. I've tried to forget, to put him behind me, to excise my memories as cleanly as he surgically removed me from his life.
The days go by, bringing about slow changes in my reflection in the mirror. First a few grays appeared in my plain brown hair, then many, conveniently defeated by my hairstylist. Now when I face the mirror, I see the little lines forming around my eyes, mouth, and forehead, destined to grow wider and deeper with the inevitable passage of time.
My once-long hair is now short, my body softer and curvier, although I work hard to stay fit. I wonder if he would even recognize me if he saw me – probably not. I would recognize him, though, in a heartbeat. I don't know if I could handle seeing his beautiful, unchanged face, his carved marble seventeen year-old's body that would make my heart skip beats. No, it is unlikely that I will ever see him again, and it would absolutely destroy me to see him with someone else. It's really better this way.
My oldest son is seventeen now, with a girlfriend of his own, and I constantly warn him not to break any hearts. Although he will never know the reason, I think that he understands the message.
I try to make it through the days without thinking of him, but there are always reminders to break my resolve. He haunts me everywhere. I'll hear a song we used to sing along to - now that I can finally listen to music again without falling apart – and find myself caught in the memory of us sitting at his piano as he played for me. It might be a character on TV or in the movies, the profile of a nearby commuter on the freeway, something about somebody's eyes, or their nose, or the way they carry themselves. Although nobody can even come close to matching his hair – that glorious riot of unruly bronze hair that I sometimes had to sit on my hands to resist the urge to just reach out and touch, run my fingers through, bury my face in to inhale his unique sweet scent…
I can look back now and be grateful for the little time that I was given, sharing my life with the beautiful boy. He touched my heart and my soul with love, with beauty, and music so sweet and pure that it made me cry. I only wish I could have been good enough for him, enough to be able to keep him… that he would want to keep me.
What do I do? How do I heal this gaping hole that grows deeper every minute of every day? I want to move on – I have to move on. I can't keep going like this. Eventually someone will see through my façade.
I want to place an eviction notice on my run-down heart, declare that he no longer has a place within.
I want this aching soul cancer to be in remission. Please make it go away, make it stop… It still hurts.
Why was I not enough?
Even if I could somehow manage to keep him out of my mind for the rest of my life, he will never be out of my heart. I know that when I close my eyes for the last time, it will be his beautiful face I see, and with my last breath, my soul will whisper, "I love you, Edward."
Author's Notes:
This was my first attempt at fanfiction, which I posted un-beta'd in 2009 on the Fanfiction site as a one-shot that ended up completed over three years with three chapters. This is the first of the three chapters that I have updated and edited, and this time I've run it through my betas, A Little Distracted and FangMom this time around. I even had a dear friend of mine, an English major who graduated with honors, review and comment on it so I could post this knowing that it was the best I could make it. I will be forever grateful for their friendship and their input.
Chapter songs: "Missing" and "My Immortal" by Evanescence. Remission playlist is available on YouTube under NoWayWithWords.
My mom recently passed away after her own long battle with cancer. She was a published author, and a much better writer than I will ever be. She inspired me to always believe in myself, and I wanted to post this in her memory.