Let Go
By xCamilleon
It had been exactly one hundred days. One hundred days since she had started to come and meet him here. One hundred days since she had begun to regain her former stately happiness; to feel alive. One hundred days since he had gone home.
One hundred days and the twenty-one gunshots still rang fresh in her ears. She sometimes sat down next to him and just thought of why she didn't feel this before. Every single day, for one hundred days, they would meet at the familiar oak shaded bench nearby the park-like expanse. She would talk to him for hours, and he would just listen. But lately… lately, she had felt him slipping away.
"Let go of me, Stephy," Chris would playfully say after she had spoken to her for long. The playfulness of his tone gave way to the fact that she had to, though. "you have to move on! There are better things out there than me."
"I can't," Stephanie would say, slightly less playful than Chris' own tone. "I love you too much."
She would feel a warm hand ghosting up her arm as she stared into sky blue orbs. They didn't blink or move at all as he said, "I love you too."
"I've missed you so much," she would say.
"So have I," he would say in reply.
"And the kids—oh the kids. They're growing beautifully. Ash—Ash—well, he looks just like you. And the twins are adorable, and Murphy and Aurora miss you so much. I try to take them here but they don't want to come here." Stephanie wiped a stray tear at the mention of them not wanting to come. "Chris—I really want them to come. I really do, but they… they think I'm crazy," she said, with matching hand gestures suggesting that what they thought was absolutely untrue.
Chris sighed. "It's alright, Stephy. If they don't want to come, don't force them. It's alright. Don't worry, I'm fine," he trailed off. "I have you."
Stephanie's face scrunched up. "Yes, Chris, you have me, but they are your children, and they don't want to see you. That doesn't sit well with me."
"It's part of 'moving on,' Stephy. They've let go of me. Why can't you?" he asked, all playfulness gone, no trace of it left even in his forever-honest eyes. "You have a whole, huge life ahead of you. Why can't you take it and live it?"
"Why can't I take it and live it?" she asked, emphasizing 'take' and 'live,' as if they were foreign concepts to her. She was livid, and her hands were flying everywhere and her voice was raised.
"Yes Stephanie. Take the life that you have been given and live it without me!" Chris said, just as if it was part of the natural course of things to do so.
"I can't do that, Chris!" Stephanie yelled at him. "I can't do that!"
"Yes you can, Stephy. Stop coming here and stop talking to me. It's that easy, and you'll get on with the rest of your life."
Stephanie's anger flared only more. "You think that's easy? You think I can just get on with my life? Do you thin—"
"Aw, don't kid me, Stephy. You can. You did it when Hunter left you and you can certainly do it now. How far behind are you with work? How many hours are you missing just to be with me, huh? When was the last time you really spent time with the kids?" he spoke reprimandingly. "Stephanie, I am asking you to function. Like a normal human being, for Chrissakes. I'm only telling you to do what's best for you!"
"Yeah, and you totally were thinking of what was best for all of us when you enlisted in the army, huh? And when you voluntarily signed up for ten more years? And when you get shot in the desert of god-knows-where, you mean to tell me you think that that is what's best for me?" Stephanie forced back tears, forced back days and days of excruciating pain and repressed emotions. "It's been a hundred days and I've been trying to let you go, Chris! It's been a hundred days and I have a hundred days' worth of knowledge of why I can't just let you go, Chris!"
"And why is that?"
"You… you are me! And I am you! I can't—I can't just let go of you because if I let go of you, I'm afraid I'm going to lose myself, and then I'll never know!"
"Never know what?"
"Never—never know… if we'd had made it past this! If you hadn't gotten shot, if you hadn't gone to the army, if you hadn't left!" Stephanie fought the tide of tears that had broken. She knew she sounded delusional and absolutely crazy but maybe that's what she was. "I love you, Chris!"
"Stephanie, I love you. But I am dead. You meet a ghost of me here in the cemetery every single day but that doesn't change the fact that I am dead. I was shot in the head. I am six feet deep in the ground and you are not. You are alive so go live! Stephanie, live! Live, for me, please!"
"NO!" She shouted. "Chris, no! I can't—I can't! This isn't life! This—I'm not—this shouldn't be happening!" she screamed. "You're supposed to be at home with me and by the fireplace and we're supposed to be playing with the kids! I'm not—this isn't—this isn't how it should be!"
Stephanie cried and screamed, only like a heartbroken woman could. She spewed words uncontrollably and Chris had not gone. He sat and watched. And when she calmed down enough to sit down, he spoke gentle nothings in her ear, reassuring her that he had not gone, and she was still here with him.
"Chris…" she had moaned lowly when she had reduced sobs to sniffles. "Chris… don't let me go…"
"I won't…" he whispered. "I never will."
"Promise me…" she began. "never forget me. I love you, Chris."
Stephanie looked into his eyes as his arms wrapped around her. He laid a soft kiss on her forehead and he thumbed away some stray tears. He grazed his fingers across the snowy plains of her cheeks one last time. "I won't, Stephy. I love you too much to let you go… but you… have to." Stephanie pinched her eyes shut and she let the tears flow freely as she felt the warmth replaced by cold, harshly cold air, gusting at her face and arms. She sat there and waited for him to come back. When she realized he would never, she sobbed quietly.
"My life had you in every single bit, Chris," she whispered. "if I let you go, Chris, I let go of everything I ever had. I let go, I lose everything. I lose everything, and I'm not even alive anymore."
As a light shower had begun to spray, she stood up off the bench and walked to her car reluctantly, careful not to slip on the smooth cement path.
"I'll never let go, Chris. Never."
A/N: This was an idea that I've had with me for a couple of days since I visited the cemetery. I toyed around with it and I'm sure there are like a gazillion loopholes and lots of context and continuity is missing, and I'm not entirely proud of it. Hope you liked it though. But if you didn't get it, here's the general gist of the story:
Chris was in the army. He got shot, and died. It's been a hundred days since the funeral, and every day since then, Stephanie went to visit Chris, to end up talking to ghost-Chris every time. :D
I know not too many of you read my work, so if you do, please leave a review. I'd at least like to know that you liked or hated it. On that note, thanks for reading this.
till later,
xCamilleon
