When walking to the cemetery with an angry twenty-something year old girl by my side, I started to think of how I got myself into this problem. After a few minutes I realized the first mistake I made: I approached the garden today at a time I normally didn't.
Normally, when I come to the pretty garden on the corner of Huntson and Paier, I come later in the evening or earlier in the day to try to avoid anyone seeing me. I honestly hate stealing the flowers, but one.) I know Sarah would've loved them, and two.) they're free, which is practically all I can afford. Today, however, I was in a bad mood, so I came early. It has been a few months since the accident, but the mental wound is still fresh in my mind. I can still hear Sarah telling me through the phone, "I love you with all of my heart, John. I always will."
Silence came after that. Little did she know that those words would soon be as important to me as the blood running through my veins, the air I breathe, or the world which I live on.
So every time I am feeling down, missing Sarah, or just have nothing else to do, I visit her grave. It reminds me -ironically- that everything will be okay, that things will get better. Sarah's in a much better place now and I know she would hate me coming to visit her as often as I do, but I can't help myself. She was the light of my world. She reminds me that no matter where I am, there is someone who is always there for me. I'm determined to be that person for someone else one day, even if it's not as risky as the way she did it. She gave up her life to save me. Sarah was the best girlfriend I could've asked for.
It's not uncommon for me to start spiraling like I just did. I drown in the memories too often, until I'm physically gasping for air, and my roommate Stanley has to come in and calm me down. On the outside, he's a tough guy who no one would mess with, but after getting to know him better I've found that he's actually a pretty caring guy. He's had his fair share of sadness, and understands what I'm going through firsthand. His old girlfriend, Maddy, died a while back, but he won't go into detail about how. I don't pressure him to talk about it. He never pressures me.
Today, however, I was feeling especially down, so I made my trip at around 1:30. I decided on my way there that I would pick up some flowers. I made my way down the suburban road, my shoulders slouched and my hood up over my head in attempt to avoid all contact with anyone walking down the road. Unfortunately, that didn't hide me from the owner of the garden when I neared.