Watching from the Window
Summary: "Sometimes when I look out the window at night, I can almost see her there, poised to climb the stairs up to my place." Roger thinks about April.
--
I did it. I broke up with Mimi last week. I don't know why I did it. Well, yes I do. It was getting so hard to admit to myself, but I think that I finally can.
I am not over April Ericsson. I can't get over the fact that a stupid disease has taken her life. Whenever I think of her, her sicknesses never even crosses my mind. I don't like to focus and harp on one specific thing like that—I will just torment myself, tearing my mind apart, placing blame in all the wrong places. I try to avoid doing such a painful activity, like any other half-normal person would.
This is going to sound stupid, I know, but—sometimes I forget that she's dead. Passed, I mean. I keep thinking that I'll hear her feet pounding on the stairs like always at the same time everyday, and I'll let her in. She'll come into the kitchen; we'll make a sandwich or whatever I can scrounge up…
Then Mark will come home, screaming about his latest film project or something else that no one cares about. April will get out the paper, and make a snide comment about the mayor or governor and his offices. Mark will overhear and immediately strike up an argument. They'll be at it for hours just yelling at each other about how wrong the other is. Until I distract her, of course.
Just as they had settled down, the phone would ring. None of us wanted to answer it, of course, so we would let the machine pick it up.
"Mark, honey? Pick up, please! Mark!" came Mrs. Cohen's screechy voice. We would sit there, laughing at her, until she was finished recording. Then April would play it back, and do a dynamite impression of her.
"MARK, HONEY? PICK UP, PLEASE! MARK!" she would quip in an identical voice. Gosh, I was proud of her.
My favorite moments, however, were when I would play her a song I just wrote. They usually were about her anyway, so it was great having my inspiration listen to the music. She would sit right next to me, leaning her head ever so slightly on my shoulder. Once she caught on to the chorus, she would hum along. Nothing made me happier than to hear her in my ear, singing the songs that I had written for her.
But then she would look at the time and comment on how late it had gotten. How dare I let her stay so long! I would just smile a puppy-dog smile and she would forgive me in an instant.
"Bye sweetie, I gotta run!" she would say, and I'd watch her from the window to make sure that she crossed the street okay.
I never watched Mimi from the window. Even though she lived downstairs, I knew full well that she was not going to sleep right after she left here. I knew she liked to go out with her friends and visit her family and participate in other amusing late-night activities.
It's just that every time I told a joke and Mimi would smile, my breath would catch in my throat. April, I would think. I wouldn't be able to get her off of my mind, and no matter how hard Mimi tried she wouldn't be able to pull my true thoughts out of me. I think that the split was a mutual decision, although more on my side. I had to get away from that smile, the same one that had haunted me in my dreams ever since April's death.
Every night I say a special prayer to God, asking him to bless precious April's soul. I have confidence that he will, and her spirit forever lives in my memory. Sometimes when I look out the window at night, I can almost see her there, poised to climb the stairs up to my place.
"She's not there," Mark then whispers softly. I look at him innocently and say,
"Who's not there?" That would make him roll his eyes and say,
"Never mind, go to sleep," and that would be the end of that. She may not be out my window, but she will always hold first place in my heart.
Because I will never, truly forget my first and only love: April.
--
Special thanks to -TheSingingBlob- who beta read this for me! Go read her story!
And review mine :-)