It'll be Okay

  I remember the day he died so perfectly. I can smell the blood gushing out of his stomach. I can hear him screaming in anguish for the pain to stop. I can picture his lifeless body on the stretcher. The memory is now permanently etched into my mind, detail by detail. 

   A Monday afternoon, almost 2 summers ago, my boyfriend of 2 years died in a hospital in California. The police officer told me he got in a car accident, that the impact crushed his lungs so badly that it killed him. None of it made sense to me. We live in Massachusetts, so what was he doing in California? Where was he driving to? Did he forget that he was supposed to be with me, celebrating our anniversary? I never could get answers to these questions, so I stopped trying. I found closure in the fact that I would never know. But still I remember the entire day, the exact moment I watched him stop breathing. I remember the day so perfectly. 

                   Yet, there he is smiling right in front of me in the street.

 I tried to scream, but my whole body was numbed by the sight of him. All I could do was stand there.

  “It’s rude to stare, you know. Even if I am your boyfriend.” The voice was soft. A voice so distinct that just by hearing it, you know who’s saying it and what face there making. It was his voice. 

  I stayed silent a second longer, all the air in my lungs swelling up.

    “Are you okay, Eva?” He asked.

     No, I'm not okay. I’m literally seeing dead people. 

“ Ethan..” I began slowly. “What’s going on?”

    He looked at me with feign innocence, as if he was clueless also. I didn’t say anything for several moments. Maybe if I squeeze my eyes shut, he’ll go away.

   “Open your eyes. You look ridiculous.” 

     “What’s happening?” I asked again. 

    “It’ll be okay.” Ethan said simply.

    “What? What will be okay?”

He smiled at me, the gesture not reaching his eyes. Like there was a hidden meaning behind it. 

    “Can you please tell me why you’re here? Why i’m seeing you?” I pleaded. 

   “It’ll be okay.” He said again.

“What are you talking about?” 

But instead of answering, he held his hand out toward me. I cringed at the offer, shrinking away from his touch.

“I can’t.”

He extended his hand out again. “Just grab my hand. It’ll be okay.”

I stayed still, my hand aching to grab his again.

“Listen, I don’t have cooties anymore if that’s what you're worried about.”

I laughed, realizing how long it's been since he told that joke. But I still couldn’t grab his hand.

“Not now.” I explained. “It’s just- this is a lot and you came out of nowhere. I moved on and you can’t just-”

“I understand, Eva.” He interrupted. “I get it.”

I nodded at him, unsure of what else I could say.

“Doesn’t mean i’ll stop trying though.” He mumbled under his breath.

I ignored the comment, forcing myself to look him in the eye.

“Ethan, what are you doing here?” 

He sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“I missed you.”

“You're here because you missed me?”

“No.”

“Then what’s your point?” I asked. I forced myself to look past the fact that he was here, and focus on the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be.

“I haven’t seen you in 2 years, Eva. I haven’t heard you laugh, or cry, or talk in so long. I’ve missed you. So can we move past the fact that i’m here for just a second?” 

I took his hand in mine, trying desperately not to feel anything. The sooner I comply with what he wants, the sooner he can leave.

“Fine. You heard me laugh, you heard me talk, now it's time for you to hear me cry.”

He stared at me in confusion, gesturing for me to continue.

“Tell me everything about the day you died. Everything.” 

Ethan frowned. “This is kind of a long story so-”

“I have nothing but time.”

“Okay.” He agreed. “I remember once you told me that you liked scavenger hunts. So I thought for our anniversary I would set one up all the way from Washington to California. I was on my way home when you called. My phone dropped, and I only took my eyes off the road for a second to grab it. But that was the last thing I remember doing before I crashed.”

He drove all the way to California for me. He got in a car accident because he tried to answer my call. He died because of me.

A teardrop slid down my cheek. 

“I accepted the fact that I would never know how you died, and for a while I was okay with it. I had a system with myself almost. I didn’t think about- it didn’t bother me. But here you come messing everything up. You just had to come back and- and ruin everything. I was doing just fine not missing you. But now your back. And when you leave me, I’m gonna have to try to not miss you all over again. Please just go, Ethan.”

“I’m sorry, Eva.” He whispered. “But it’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”

“Stop saying that.” I snapped. “Just leave. I don’t want you here. You died and you left me- so I don’t want you here.”

“It’ll be okay.”

I didn’t say anything, trying to figure out what that could mean. It’ll be okay. What will be okay? What’s not okay?

“Are you gonna tell me, or is this something I have to do for myself?” 

Ethan shook his head. “This ones on you, Eva.”

I tuned his presence out, trying to refocus my energy into my own mind.

I’ll admit, not everything I told him was completely true. Not even the things I've told myself have been true either. The grief I felt after he died was unbearable. I couldn’t handle the pain of him being gone. I convinced myself that the only way to grieve was to just not think about him at all. Sometimes I even pretended he never existed. But there were always those times when I let something slip. A thought or memory that I couldn’t help but dwell on. On those days it felt like my heart was being slowly built back together, and then ripped apart over and over. I considered getting help for weeks. But I didn’t want to move on, I just wanted Ethan back. I wanted him back so bad I was willing to do anything. I was willing to do anything. 

I left my thoughts, focusing back on Ethan. 

“No.”

“Eva-”

“No.” I cut in. “I couldn’t. I wouldn’t do something like that. It’s not true.”

“It’ll be okay.”

“Stop saying that. Just tell me.”

“Yesterday,” He began. “Yesterday you drove to California. Your plan was to figure out what I was doing there before you- you know. You wanted to do it with a clear head.”

“How did it all happen?” I asked reluctantly. These weren’t answers I wanted, none of them were. But I needed to know.

“The Golden Gate Bridge. You jumped off of the bridge just before sundown.”

I let his words sink into me for a few seconds. I’m dead.

“I’m dead.” I said out loud.

“We’re dead.” He corrected me.

“I- I did that to myself? I really -”

“Hey.” Ethan grabbed my hand softly, ruffling my hair with his other hand. “ It’ll be okay.”

I nodded, gripping his hand back. “It will be okay.”