Chapter 11
Picture Perfect Memories
There was something liberating in Paul knowing about the cancer. Before, there had been friends who treated me normally, and friends who knew about my cancer, but no one fell into both categories. It wasn't that they purposefully tried to act different around me; it was a subconscious thing. They acted like they were walking on broken glass whenever they were around me, wincing whenever anyone said anything that might pertain to cancer or death.
But with Paul, it was like nothing had changed. He didn't bother to soften his attitude for me, and I relished that fact. He still didn't know about the depression, but that was a trouble for another day, and I was perfectly happy to put it off. It was like Paul had said; I lived in the moment and never stopped to worry about the future.
He had said a lot that made me think that day. And of course, I had retaliated with one of my biggest secrets. It hadn't been like I imagined it. Not that I imagined telling him about it often. I had just always pictured it as something close and intimate, a deep secret shared in a moment of trust, not as just another comment used in a screaming match.
Still, it was hard to realistically imagine it any other way. Paul and I were not the trusting, close type. There were special moments, moments that made me want to stay locked in time forever, but those were few and in between. I couldn't say that I minded, too much of a good thing always took away the thrill.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. Talking to, just being around Paul was good. Of that I was certain. And it never grew old, every time he smiled at me my heart would skip a beat, every time we laughed together I felt like I was on top of the world.
The days began to melt together, becoming a blur of laughter and talk and feeling absolutely right. Picture perfect memories. There were dark moments, just like always, but I found that they were easier to handle. But they did not disappear. They did not go away, just because I felt happy. There were still times when I did nothing but sit in my room, not feeling anything. There were still times when the hopelessness of it all came crashing down on me, and I wanted nothing more than to end everything. But the pills helped, just like they always did, and I learned to live with it.
Some days were better than most. Like when Paul took me out to dinner, assuring me at least three times that it wasn't a date. And just to make sure, he made me draw up a list of requirements of what would qualify as a date. As a result, he made me walk all the way to the restaurant, insisted that I would pay, and came in clothes that he had pulled out of the laundry hamper.
When I finally made it to the restaurant, panting and sweating like a pig, his words of greeting were, "You're late."
"Thanks," I said dryly. "You know, I really don't think this is completely necessary. You could have just said it wasn't a date and left it at that."
Paul shrugged. "I like to be thorough."
"Can we just go in?" I asked, rolling my eyes.
Paul stared at me for a few seconds. "Well?" he demanded. "Aren't you going to get the door? I'm not doing it."
"This is more like gender reversal," I muttered, going in and making sure to slam the door shut so he would have to get it on his own.
"Can I help you?" the waitress asked, keeping her eyes on Paul and ignoring me. She ran a hand through her dark hair, smiling at him in a way that made it pretty clear what she wanted.
Paul leaned forward, grinning at her through half-closed eyes. "A table for two. Three, if you have a break soon."
The waitress gave a high-pitched laugh and took us to a table near the back. As soon as she was gone I smacked Paul in the arm.
"What?" he asked, for some reason rubbing his chest instead of the arm I had hit. "This isn't a date, so it only makes sense that I flirt with her."
I raised my eyebrows, trying to quell the sense of jealousy I felt. "Fine. Does that mean I can go over and talk to the cute guy three tables down?"
Paul's head whipped around, and he glared daggers at the boy in question. "No. Definitely not."
"But I thought you said it wasn't a date?"
"It's still rude to go flirt with someone else…" Paul snapped his mouth shut, realizing what he had just said. "Whatever. I'll stop flirting with her."
"So sweet of you," I simpered.
The rest of the evening passed in that matter: petty arguments, jokes, and Paul repeatedly trying to discourage the waitress. I didn't feel too sorry for him when she purposefully spilled a pitcher of water on him; it was his own fault for telling her that he had only flirted with her because he hadn't noticed her face yet.
He conceded to driving me back to Sam's, but only because it was after dark. In lieu of a goodnight kiss he lightly punched me in the arm, and I returned the favor by 'lightly' stomping on his foot.
Apparently our non-date went well in Paul's eyes, because we went to the beach a week later. It was in the evening, Paul had patrol in the afternoon, so the place was almost completely deserted. We didn't do much talking, just lay on the sand, throwing rocks into the ocean and seeing how many times they would skip.
Everything felt so easy with him, but hard at the same time. It made no sense, even in my head, but I couldn't think of any other way to explain it. Being with him felt natural, but it was so hard to hold back, to keep from getting too close. The thoughts in my head swirled around, leaving me even more confused than before. I needed to say something, to somehow distract myself.
"Have you ever thought much about death?" I asked hesitantly. I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. Wow Cat, great choice. Now the conversation's sure to be happy.
Paul looked at me sideways, but didn't stop throwing rocks. "Um, no not really. What about it?"
I shrugged, part of me wanting to leave it at that, and part of me wanting to continue. The second part won out. "Just, the idea of it. How easily everything can just…end." Paul looked at me strangely but made no comment, and I felt compelled to continue. "It's just, the human body is so frail. All these delicate chemical balances, and it can so easily be disrupted. There are so many ways we can die. Suffocation, drowning, blood loss, diseases, wounds, old age. The possibilities are endless, and…and…" I struggled to find the words for what I wanted to say. I had never shared these thoughts with anyone, and it was hard. "Death is unavoidable, everything ends. We're always working so hard to survive, but eventually everyone dies. So sometimes I wonder, what's the point? Wouldn't it be easier to just…give up?" I noticed Paul's alarmed expression and quickly backtracked. "I mean, I'm not suicidal or anything, I just wonder sometimes."
Paul considered my words for a few moments, abandoning the stones to drag his fingers through the sand. "I guess," he said at long last, "that we keep surviving not to escape death, but just to delay it. Wouldn't it be better to experience things before your life ends? If we don't fight for life, we'll have nothing to show for it in the end."
I nodded slowly. "That's kind of what I've been thinking too. I want to experience everything I can before I die." I said quietly.
We lapsed into silence, watching the sun descend behind the water. The sky was awash in a beautiful array of pastel pinks and oranges, and all I wanted to do was stay stuck in this little moment of time. Paul's hand rested in the sand between us, so close that it would barely take any effort to reach out and grab it, to bring on a whole new set of experiences. But no, that was one experience I would have to live without.
Hey guys, sorry that it's been a while. Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, or reviewed. My goal for this chapter is to reach 60 reviews, and 70 means an early chapter. Thanks again for reading.
