Tea & Forgiveness

I live in a small town. I've always lived in this small town. It isn't known for much of anything, but there's a spot downtown that's small and secluded. It's a little gazebo that's been worn by years of weather and graffiti from local youth. There's a small table in the middle of it that's just as worn as the outside. The white paint is peeling and it's not very white anymore, but I still love it. Most people have forgotten its existence. Not me. Never me. 

I used to go to the little gazebo all the time, back in its prime. We used to always go to that little gazebo. It was our spot, and it still is. Though the exterior has deteriorated, the memories I have of that spot never will. 

Sometimes, I'll sit on my side of the gazebo and gaze across the table, almost expectantly. He's never there, though. I see only the unkempt garden behind where he used to smile at me. 

Today, I am on my side of the gazebo with a cup of tea and a good book. The sun heats up the area through a hole in the roof, just warm enough for comfort. I sigh contentedly into my cup and close my eyes. 

"You're late," I smile as my eyes flutter open after sensing the apparition in front of me. 

"Apologies," he smiles that familiar smile, "the afterlife is busier than you might think."

I smirk and laugh quietly. Even after death, his sense of humor survived. 

"Of course it is. How silly of me to expect otherwise," I sip my tea and set my book on the small table. 

Silence fills the air for a minute before he breaks it, "How have you been? I know it's been a little while since we last spoke."

A little while? I think, it's been months. 

"I've been doing alright," I lie, "same old stuff, really."

"Good," he says, "good. I've been alright as well."

Liar, I think. "That's really good," I say. 

This shouldn't be awkward. In life, we were always comfortable with each other. From day one, until the day he... until the day I lost him. 

"Are you really okay?" he asks.

No. "Yeah," I smile reassuringly. Surely he can tell it's fake, "I am."

"Have you, uh..." he stops and ponders for a moment, "have you moved on?"

"What?" I ask, immediately offended.

"Do you or do you not have a new lover?" he spat. It was almost as if he was angry at himself for asking.

"No," I said quietly, "no, I don't. What about you? Meet any pretty, single ghosts in your area?"

"No," he sighed, "You know, you should."

"Should what?" I set my cup down. 

"Meet someone new. Go on dates. Get married. Live." 

"I wanted that with you," I said through gritted teeth, "I wanted marriage, kids, a family, a happy life with you!"

"I'm sorry!" he yelled suddenly. My eyes flew open and I became breathless. He never got angry. Not at me. "I'm sorry, okay? If I could go back, you better believe I would. I'd do it for you."

"But you could've already done it for me! It's been years since you've gone."

"Like it was my choice?" he gestured to the road. I shut my eyes and covered my ears with my hands, "Stop."

"It wasn't my fault!" he continued, "How was I supposed to stop a semi who didn't know how to drive? How was I supposed to know that everyone else in the car would survive? You think I wanted to put you in the hospital? You think I wanted our friends incapacitated for life? Jeremy's a paraplegic because of the accident, you think I wanted that?!"

"STOP," I yelled, "stop, stop, stop!" My eyes burned with the tears of several repressed years. Suddenly, I felt everything all at once. The impact. The metal tearing through my flesh. The car turning several times over. The blinding lights as we were pulled from the wreckage. The life flight to the hospital. Watching as they wheeled away my boyfriend's lifeless body, without realizing that he was already gone. Waking up from surgery. Being told what happened. Being told that there's nothing they could do. Waking up day after day, year after year, avoiding the fact that I don't have him anymore. Avoiding a life without him. 

"I'm sorry," he sighed and buried his head in his hands, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled, I- it's not anyone's fault." 

"No, you're right," I choked out through a sob, "you're not at fault. No one's to blame. I'm sorry that I blamed you all these years. How could you have known?"

"I forgive you. I hope you can forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive you for," I smiled weakly, "you did nothing wrong. You tried to save everyone else. You sacrificed yourself for the rest of us."

He lowered his head and I watched as his shoulders began to bounce. 

I held back more tears as I reached out to comfort him, only to have my hand pass directly through his shoulder. 

"I wish I could hold you," I sobbed, "I wish you could hold me."

"I'll always be around, you know," he looked up and smiled softly as he wiped his tears away."

"I love you, you know," I smiled.

He smiled back wearily, "I love you, too. I always will. But you need to live your life."

"I know," I whispered, "I know I do." 

"Promise me one thing?" he asked. 

I bit my lip and nodded, "Anything."

"Stop blaming yourself, first of all."

"Okay."

"Second of all, put yourself out there. It might take a little while, but I want you to move on from me."

"It definitely will take more than a little while, but I promise to work on that. For you."

"Good. Lastly, I want you to never forget how much I love you."

"I won't. Don't forget how much I love you, too."

"I won't," he smiled. His apparition slowly disappeared from before me and I was left alone in the dilapidated gazebo with my tea, my book, the sun, and my thoughts. 

I glanced around the garden and tried to remember what it used to be. Then I realized, it doesn't matter what it used to be. It only matters what I can make of it.