My White Rose
Summary: The sky was grey the day they buried you, much like the day you died and every day after that. Character Death. Brittana.
Eddi Reader; Bell, Book and Candle. (Recommended song!) Youtube it!
xx
The sky was grey the day they buried you, much like the day you died. Except it didn't rain like it did then, instead the winter sun struggled through the thick clouds reminding me of your smile, warm, always warm. The rose I held was white. Pure. Just like you Britt. I wore black and I think you would have scrunched your nose up at my dress if you could have seen me, not because you wouldn't have liked it, you would have. But just because it was short and the chilly wind made me shiver worse than my own tears did.
I cried Britt, when they lowered you into the cold ground. The mud was so dark. Wet from earlier rain and nothing about seeing you placed in a hole was okay, no one could ever be okay with that sight. I don't think I've ever cried so much. Do you know how much pain my heart feels when I think of never seeing you again? Never watching you dance, god, how you could dance Britt. I hate that the world will never see you. See what I had. Your smile, your warmth, your heart – forever.
Quinn cried too Britt. We both stayed even after the service was over. We stayed with you Britt. Because you weren't meant to be alone, not in the ground, not gone. You were meant to be standing with us. Smiling in that careful way and wondering why Quinn and I were sobbing so loudly. Except you wasn't standing there, I couldn't touch you, do you know how much I miss just touching you? Do you know how many times I've gone to grab your hand? To turn and say something to you?
You're not there anymore, and I don't know if I'll ever be okay with that. No, I know I'll never be okay with that.
Rachel came to the service. Can you believe that Britt? She took time off from her Broadway schedule to attend, Berry, I don't know if I was sad or angry when she hugged me. But she did and she didn't let go even after I'd stopped hugging her back. Do you remember when she'd warn people before she'd hug them? She doesn't anymore. And I don't know if that's a relief or strangely unsettling. She cried even before the service started and apologized because for five years she hadn't been in contact, she felt like she didn't have the right to cry Britt. But everyone was crying. She had a right.
She stayed too Britt, after the service. She stood near the old oak tree that towered over the churchyard. Her black coat was long. God, it was like a cloak. You'd have liked it. She didn't move while Quinn and I knelt with you. I held the white rose for so long my fingers turned numb under the cold breeze. Dozens more rested over the freshly laid dirt. Quinn sat hers against the marble headstone and it stood up, she had tied a yellow ribbon around the stalk. I didn't have a ribbon to tie around mine Britt, so I kept my fingers curled around the rose instead. I held it tightly, I promised you over and over again Britt that I wouldn't leave you.
Did you hear me? I think hell would have, because I screamed it until Quinn buried her face into my neck and wrapped me in a hug so tight I couldn't breathe. But that was okay, it was okay Britt. Because I don't want to breathe another breath without you. I don't. But I do, and every lungful is so painful. It burns my throat and I want to vomit, my heart actually aches Britt, I think I'll have a heart attack – from loving too much – from loving you too much.
From missing you, god, I miss you baby.
Quinn's dress got grass stains from kneeling on the wet ground, but she never moved. Her eyes were red and tears kept falling. Mine did too. But we stayed Britt, we stayed with you. You weren't alone sweetie. We sat in the dark and cried so hard you would have scolded us if you had of been there, I know you would have pouted, I miss that…I miss you.
Rachel stayed longer than I thought she would. She ended up sitting against the tree trunk. Her knees were pulled to her chest and it reminded me of you, all those times we'd sit in your room when we were younger – and you'd pull your knees tightly into you and wrap your arms around them, you'd watch me Britt. Do you remember? You'd watch me and talk about our future; you treaded so carefully around me. Subtly asking what we meant. What we were. Asking indirectly so that I didn't falter and hide.
If I had known then how little time we'd have Britt, if I had only known…
I stayed the whole night. I don't even remember when it became light again, when the morning sun rose. But a frost had settled upon the grass and dirt and Quinn traced so many hearts for you in the icy mush that her fingers turned red. I traced them too Britt. I traced a heart for every day I loved you, for every day I would continuing loving you. I think I sat there for hours. I cried when the frost started to melt. Quinn did too. But it was more of a dry sob. Our voices sounded so weak, so different.
I didn't want to leave you Britt. I wouldn't have if Quinn and Rachel hadn't dragged me to my feet. I would have stayed with you forever. I swear I'd have sat there until I saw you again baby, I wanted too. I wanted to see your smile, to touch your face, trace your freckles with the tip of my finger and watch as you blush. I wanted to kiss you, softly and gently like I always would when we were together. I wanted you to talk about Lord Tubbington, to hog the blankets, use all the hot water. Dance, laugh, hold me – I wanted you. I wanted you.
Our apartment looked empty. I tried to convince myself that nothing had changed; it was still the same apartment. Except everything had changed. You weren't there. You weren't waiting for me when I walked in the door, and it hurt so much more because a small part of me actually thought I'd see you. I thought maybe you'd be sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around you, but the chair was empty Britt. It was empty just like my heart and I don't think I've ever felt so lost before.
I don't think I'll ever stop reaching for you when I wake up. Do you know how many times I've dreamed of you? Even the good dreams make me cry. Because I miss everything baby. Your toothbrush still sits in the holder with mine, is that weird? Your clothes are still in the closet and your shoes still sit by the front door. The laces undone just like you left them. I can't move them. I won't move them. Because I still think you'll come home. Even if it's impossible, I still think you'll scold me if I put them away…what if you can't find them?
Quinn came by every day. I don't think she even knew why. We didn't always talk; we just sat on the couch, our hands in our laps. She stared at the pictures on the walls a lot. The ones of our wedding. Of our senior year. Sometimes she smiled when she looked at them and so did I, but then we stopped. We stopped Britt. Because it hurt too much to know we'd only see you in photos. She missed you a lot. I could see it in her eyes and I think she saw the same in mine because she hugged me every time she left. She hugged me like it was the last time she'd ever see me, and perhaps she was afraid it was true.
Sometimes I thought it was true. I thought I wouldn't wake up in the morning, but then I did. I woke up and your side of the bed was cold, undisturbed and I reached for you…I always reached for you.
I wore your favourite jumper every night. It smelled like you. Do you remember it? The orange fuzzy one? You'd wear it even though it was a little bit scratchy because it reminded you of orange slices, which then reminded you of Cheerios practice and somehow Glee club. You told me once about the connection. But I can't remember it Britt. I can't remember and I don't know if I'm okay with that. So I wore it every night, even if it's scratchy. Because I don't want to forget. I want to remember everything about you, and I'm scared my memories will become blurred – because in my dreams I don't always see your face, I don't always remember your touch and it's lonely. God, it's so lonely.
I visited you every night Britt, I left a rose each time. White. Always white.
It was spring when I saw a different coloured rose laid carefully upon the ground, a red one. So red it was almost black. Gothic almost. Tina.
I talked to you a lot. Did you hear me? Sometimes I thought you could. Sometimes I just stayed silent. I stayed silent and watched the sky darken into night. You were always unsure of the dark so I sat with you a while, I told you about Quinn's job as a flight attendant and her foray into drama classes. I told you about Berry's newest production and Kurt and Blaine's up and coming wedding. I whispered to you that I missed you. That I needed you, I told you I loved you over and over until I thought my words would have reached heaven. Did you hear me baby?
Puck visited me one night while I talked to you. He stood at a distance and I thought I saw him frown at your headstone. But why wouldn't he? It's not meant to be this way. You're not meant to be gone. He didn't speak. Much like Quinn. And after I stopped talking to you he placed a bunch of tulips next to my white rose and Tina's red one. They were yellow Britt. Bright like you and I actually smiled when I looked at them because they reminded me of your hair, your blonde hair that used to be so soft, I think that's why he chose them. He left soon after. But every year on the same day he brings you tulips, every year, just like Tina brings you a red rose.
I dreamed of you the first year, every night. I don't think I've ever hated sleep so much. But that stopped one day baby. The hate stopped because I dreamed of Glee club and you were smiling, you were dancing and singing and I could touch you, I could feel the warmth of your skin and the taste of your lips. I dreamed of a younger me and you. Before marriage and our careers. When we were singing backup vocals and had the rest of our lives together. When I woke up I wasn't sad, for the first time in a long time I didn't feel like crying. And I think it was because your smile had been so real, it had felt so real Britt – how could I have forgotten that smile?
I brought another rose to you. The white petals remind me of your skin. Pale and soft. Yellow tulips and a red rose sat there as well and next to them was another rose, a lighter red, pink almost and a yellow ribbon was tied around the stalk. Quinn. I told you about my dream and I smiled when I recalled your laughter. You loved Glee. I'm silent after that and my tears are back, because I miss your voice, I miss my name on your lips and I miss more than anything just saying your name, so I say it. Over and over. I think I begged you for over an hour.
Brittany. Brittany. Brittany.
Please, Brittany.
I only stopped when you didn't answer. But I think you heard me. I think you heard me Britt.
Please say you heard me. Brittany. Brittany.
It's weird saying your name and knowing you'll never respond with my own. I begged you long ago to love me. To love me back, to say it out loud. Do you remember? It hurt begging you again and not having your reassuring words, not having those blue eyes to comfort me. Instead I stared at the gravestone.
Please say you love me back.
Please say you heard me.
It was summer when I saw a different flower by your grave. A single purple flower shaped like a star, the petals were triangle in appearance and I held the little lavender floret gently as I knelt on the grass. A star. How subtle Berry. You'd of liked it Britt, it was small, no bigger than my fingertip and pretty. Just like you. I think that's why Rachel left it there. Beautiful things should be together.
It takes two years to for me to move your toothbrush. Is that too long? I think it's too short. I don't throw it out; I put it in the bathroom cabinet. Your shoes are still by the door. There's dust on them Britt. Grey dust all over the white laces. You used to dance in those shoes; it hurts that you'll never wear them again, that they'll never be danced in. Quinn tripped on them a couple of weeks ago. She always used too, do you remember? She tripped on them and we laughed, for a second we laughed Britt. But then we stopped. We stopped because you're not here to pick them up. You're not here and that hurts no less, it hurts like it was yesterday.
Your orange jumper doesn't smell like you anymore, it smells like me. I still wear it though. I'll always wear it. Your side of the bed still has a mold of where you once slept, sometimes when I'm half-awake I see you sleeping next to me. I see your soft features and blonde hair. I swear I can almost feel your warmth baby, and I reach out to hold you. I reach out. I reach out and you're not there.
So I visit you again, with a white rose – and like every year yellow tulips, a red rose, a pink one with a ribbon and a lavender star sit neatly by your grave.
Like every year I tell you about Quinn's acting, Rachel's Broadway career, Mike and Tina's future plans. I tell you about Mercedes singing and Puck's never ending bad-boy lifestyle, I tell you about Kurt and Blaine's happy marriage and Mr Schues third kid with Mrs Pillsbury. I tell you everything until the sun goes down and then I just sit in silence. I trace invisible love hearts over the grass, for every day I've loved you and for every day I'll continue loving you.
The sky was grey the day they buried you, much like the day you died and every day after that.
xx