Isabella is Gone

“It was just here!” I must have scrounged around in my coat, pants, and jacket pockets for two minutes pulling out my: keys, stray border collie hairs from my the last house I hit for the day, a packet of unused gum, tiny phone book/agenda book, broken sports watch I need to get fixed and a random ballpoint pen. “It has to be here somewhere.” 

The sole picture I have with Isabella is the one I’m turning the house upside down to find. It’s the one where we’re as high as paper lanterns on a Ferris wheel in a theme park that closed down five years ago. The rest of our pictures together were scorched with her and my hatchback in the fatal accident that took her life on the freeway in the same time frame as the theme park picture. 

I frantically search under lamps, potted plants, dressers, blinds, participation trophies, a clipboard, my sofa seats, and everywhere in between in the living room. “Off to the kitchen then.” It has to be the next logical place since that’s where Isabella and I held impromptu photo ops. 

After transforming my living room into a disaster, I proceed to tear apart the kitchen, flinging knives and other cutlery around in hopes of recovering the priceless photo. I don’t literally fling anything around but I shuffle things around carefully to avoid clipping myself unnecessarily. 

My stomach growls and I know I have to quell this issue first before I continue my so-far fruitless search. I rummage around the fridge for something edible and I come across leftover banana pudding. My fridge is only filled with leftover banana pudding and a half-finished pitcher of lemonade. Oh, joyous of days. 

When I retrieve the plastic container of banana pudding, I feel something attached to the bottom. Lo and behold, it’s the photo of Isabella and me high at the theme park years ago, taped to the bottom of the container of banana pudding. Why it’s there, I don’t have the faintest idea but it’s back in my possession at long last. 

I shake the photo repeatedly and catch a glimpse of red lettering on the back of it. I turn it over and find a message that reads, “Watch my DVD, Terrance xoxo”. I don’t know if I have any standard DVDs left since most of my stuff has been transferred over to Blu-Ray but if there’s anywhere I might possibly have plain DVDs, it’s in the attic. 

I ascend the stairs and yank the rope in the middle of the main hallway to summon the rickety wooden steps I need. I haven’t been in the attic since she passed and when I make my way upward, it shows. The light I click on to illuminate the space is as dusty and dim as everywhere else. A few spiders skitter past me and I inadvertently leap into a tower of boxes that nearly topple over. 

When I spare the tower from an unfortunate fate, several DVDs tumble out the box at its peak. “No, no, no, hello there.” I palm a DVD that reads “Watch me” in the same red marker on the back of the photo. I sprint down the steps and tumble to the bottom but at least I’m safe from the spiders up there. 

I fumble the DVD and snatch it up when I notice a spider in my peripheral vision and I book it downstairs to the living room. The DVD player is ready but I’m not, considering I have to catch my breath. “Breathe, bud.” Inhale, exhale and I feel grounded, I feel ready to dive into this DVD. 

The picture roars to life and Isabella is there on our bed in all her chocolate-eyed, ponytail glory gazing into the camera. “Alright, Isabella. Relax. You can do this.” She inhales and exhales the same way I do, narrows her eyes away from the camera for a second and returns focused on the lens. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve been together, Terrance and I know we’ve had our disagreements, petty arguments that played out over days but we always loved one another. We always held that love for each other.” There’s a break in her voice and she catches her breath before she continues, swatting at some tears beginning to form in her eyes. 

“That’s what makes this harder to do. I understand if you’d be upset at me over this and I understand if you’d be frustrated knowing you could have been told sooner. You’re right in feeling those ways if you do. I wouldn’t blame you for harboring some kind of hatred for me.

“The truth is, I’ve felt distant from you and it isn’t your fault by any measure. You’ve only given me the best love anyone ever has in a relationship but I simply haven’t been able to function properly as your girlfriend while I’m not in the right place mentally. I know that we have made a charmed life for ourselves as a couple but I think we had a firmer grasp on things, I think I had a firmer grasp on things, especially, when we were friends. 

“I love you and I will always love you except not in a romantic capacity. Who knows though. We may reunite one day and give us another try. We may find other people to give romantic love to but whatever happens, I hope you know that the love I have for you doesn’t end because our relationship does. You will continue to be one of my soulmates and I pray I’ll continue to be one of yours. 

“We have to go to Slideland before it shuts down and maybe you’ll watch this and come to me and we can discuss what happens next between us. I don’t know but what I do know is that I’m sincerely sorry. We may not be as close as we once were when we started being friends or when we became lovers but I’d love for you to stay my friend. I need that in my life. I need you in my life.

“Thank you for seven wonderful years together. We’ll always have our memories for sure. I love you.” 

Like that, Isabella is gone. She was going to be gone even if she didn’t die. She wasn’t the first love of my life but she’s the biggest love of my life and I couldn’t possibly forget that. I guess, in a way, she wouldn’t be gone and in a way, she isn’t gone. Maybe when I see her again someday, we can try again if she’d want that.