I am here.
Fumbling through screen doors. Tripping over living room couches. Sliding down hallway walls. I don't know what time it is, but I'm a few bottles down. I don't know what's filled the hours, but I'm happy.
I sat there in the front yard for who knows how long. Hands held in my isolated lap. Body isolated in my wooden chair. Isolated and happy; maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was so many other reasons, reasons that will never matter, because it happened. I don't need to know why.
My mind's foggy, but everything's so clear. All the stuff I've forgotten to see, feel, hear, along the way. The little things. The way a fire splinters warmth across you skin. The way the scorching pricks ignite life inside you. How gentle a breeze can be. The way it whispers across your skin and through your hair. Sprinkling your past, present, and future all around you. Through you. Reminding you of the good. Allowing you to forget the bad.
Sliding against our door before I expect to. Sluggish body falls against it, forehead rolls back and forth across the cool boards.
A deep breath.
Spencer. What happened between us. What she gave me. What it was, I'm still unsure, but I know it's good. I know it's the start of something. And just like that fire and breeze, it splinters life inside. It reminds.
But the bad, I haven't forgotten. I'll never forget.
My eyes flutter shut. This feels good. Too good. If I stay any longer, I'll wake up here. A small puddle left waiting. A small puddle waiting for permission to move. To spread, to fill. A puddle outside, waiting to pour inside.
Inside our room.
A deep breath.
Our room.
It hits me. It rattles my nerves. Not even those bottomless glasses from before can shake my anxiety. Anxiety over something I'm unsure of.
But it reminds me. I've felt this before. Inside blue walls, and beneath sky colored sheets. Moments of fidgeting music and carpet beneath my feet. Days when alcohol was a big enough blanket to mask the fear.
Days so long ago.
Suddenly I hear something behind the door. Behind the levee and beneath the blanket. I hear her coughing. I don't know if it means she's awake. If she hears me. If it's an invitation. But my hand finds it's way to the knob and turns.
I'm inside.
The breeze cools and the moon shines. I can see her curled form beneath the covers. An empty gleaming glass on the table before her, resting beside an open book. Her book. The one with laughing faces pressed between old pages. I recognize that book. I remember it sitting beside blue name tags and flowered walls. Days from my past.
Days so long ago.
I creep over to my bed, pretending feet too heavy on the wooden floor. Focused attempts at silence failing but I'm too drunk to notice. Too drunk to care. Too inside to realize failure and things gone wrong. To know of things that shouldn't be done.
My body sits on the edge of the bed. Back facing her, breeze facing me. The ocean washes over my warm skin. Heavy eyes watch the walls, watch the curtains dancing in mid air. See the way pictures partly shine through lines of light from the window.
She coughs again. I stay where I am. It's getting to the point where I know things will be lost. Exhaustion and inebriation forging together, mixing a forgetting formula. Creating a middle world between awake and sleep. A world where things will happen, where things will never be remembered.
My jeans slide easily to the ground, a red sweatshirt meets it. I swivel around, lying down. Full body resting on top of a quilt. Full body exposed and cold. The air pushes through the window. The ocean knows. Knows I'm open and unguarded. A puddle waiting to fill. A space waiting to be filled.
The ocean tries to fill. The ocean tries to drown. The ocean wants me.
But it's not taking me. I'm here, I'm feeling it all. Every memory at once. All those laughing photos scattered on the floor. Every beautiful song colliding together. A life's past breezing over me. It's thick fingers claw, pull, and knead.
But it's too late, they can't have me and they can't take me. They missed their chance. They tried. They took a lot, they almost took it all. But they only wound up with half. Only.
I'm finding it again. I can feel it. The emptiness caving in. The half finding a whole. My missing side finding another.
It's starting, isn't it? A new half. A new life. It's unfolding on me. And not just cause life goes on, not just cause minutes turn into hours and days into months. But because of me. Because I'm letting it. Because I want it.
Because memories are happening. Moments are passing. And I'm saving them.
My walls crumble. Those walls rebuild. Pain hits me. Pain falls to the floor. Joy hits me. Joy hangs to the wall.
Joy starts to stick.
There's no stopping it now. Cause minutes turn to hours. Days turn to months. And this time, life's not gonna move me on. I'm gonna move on with life.
My life.
Something stirs outside. Tires in the gravel. Heavy doors close. Voices fuse with the crickets chirping and the waves rumbling. There's muffled laughter. There's silenced shouting. Songs and cheers echo down the halls.
It begins. A new life. I hear it outside. I hear my little group. My new family mixed with the old. Blending together, becoming one. Cheering and laughing. Memory making.
And then something else echoes. Something not so muffled or silenced. Something close. So close. It's her. I think I hear her. I think.
No. I know.
She's crying and suddenly, suddenly, I hear it all so clear. Through the haze and fog. I hear fingers pressed against lips, against a nose. Shortened sniffs and quivering lips. Sharp, small, intakes of breath.
"Spence?"
Silence and muffled laughter.
"Yeah."
A croaky breaking voice.
"You ok?"
Clanking glass beneath hurried sniffling. A rushed cover up.
"Yeah."
Minutes roll on. Eyes closed, still on my back. Fighting sleep. Fighting bottles down.
"Sure?"
Silence.
A warm breeze blows me a scent of shampoo. Her shampoo. The bed shifts, the bed sinks. Warmth sits beside me. Freshness fills the air. Her freshness.
Eyes opened meeting hers. Wet cheeks shimmer in the moon light. Swollen lips shake in it's shadow.
"Hey."
A hushed whisper inside my own voice. Hands going to either side, moving to push myself up. Her soft hand guides me back down.
Silence.
Warmth tentatively fits with mine. A heavy arm slides around my waist. It's hand sneaks under my body. Fingers bunch a shirt, tips brush the skin beneath.
"Can I..." a trembling voice inside me ear.
Silence.
"...can I lay here..." heavy breath paints my cheek, a condensation memory I need to keep "...just a little while?"
A brushing nod. An arm for a pillow, protecting a sobbing face. Wrapping around a lonely girl.
The middle world's taking over. The world of missed clarity. I'm fighting to stay outside of it. Fighting to keep this life beside me. Fighting to feel it's chest rising and falling, labored breath breathing across me.
Timing with mine.
Our tears pool and legs tangle. Bodies together, above the covers. Above the blankets. Above it all. Warm and guarded. Safe and alive. A new life with a new life. Two missing halves filling. Not with each other, but something just as important.
My damp eyes close.
I am here, spreading and moving inside.
A small puddle filling.
Next to her.
An empty space filled.