You in the wind

Submitted into Contest #98 in response to: Set your story on (or in) a winding river.... view prompt

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Romance Fiction Happy

It is the first day of spring. Our favorite season. I had our dog, Yuno, beside me. I found myself walking towards the river today like we used to. It’s too early in the morning, I didn't think anyone in town is awake. I walked by the unpaved road and see the trees enveloping the winding river. I could hear the steady sound of the water and I stood there in awe. You loved to catch butterflies and other flying insects just to try to be friends with them. You would sing and dance all the songs to The Sound of Music and pretend we’re in a Disney film. I would go along with you and be happy watching you as you are. You loved going to the beach too, but it’s quite far from where we live, nevertheless, we would go once in a while.

"So, this is what underwater sounds like!", you smiled as you held an enormous seashell by your ear and listened to the sound of the trifling matter. I stared at your eyes wandering into space trying to figure out what to feel about it. You put it on my ear, and I heard a breeze. It was calming. I had to close my eyes to feel every moment of it. I wasn't entirely sure if that's what underwater sounds like, or if it even has a definite sound, but you just assumed it had, and it was boundless.

It was like you. If anyone comes close, would they know you belong to me? Just like how the seashells belonged to the sea. Would they hear your soul searching for my name? I wasn't entirely sure if I was the one in your heart then, or if it even identifies me as your lover, but we just assumed it has, and it was boundless.

“How many sleepless nights do I have to spend to be together with you again?” I would say as I look at your photograph in my wallet. I looked at Yuno wagging his tail at the river and dipping himself a bit. You would stop him, but every time we come again, he gets more stubborn. I guess he also remembers you in the water. He never left your side, even at that time. I sit by the big tree we called Peter. I’m pretty sure Peter had also been hearing a lot about the times you would rant about your work. You never knew the concept of time, and deadlines are foreign to your nature. You always had your own perspective on things, and I admired that about you. You would often let out a screech, sometimes of victory and other times in devastation. All of it was valid. Every decision you make, emotions you feel, and thoughts you think. I would listen to you for eternity. Trust me, I would. Given the chance to listen to your voice once again, I definitely would.

This river was our own world, a secret hiding place where time suddenly stops as we would enjoy every moment together. We would be like this every year and sometimes more when we needed it. And I miss it. I miss you. All of you.

The sun began to get hotter, and Yuno seems to be tired from running around and chasing butterflies. He got that from you, obviously. I get up and we head back to our house. How long has it been? The first time you stepped onto our house. You were crying with joy and were utterly speechless, which was a sign of how thrilled you were, considering how much you talk about everything in such detail, the only thing you could do then was to kiss me. It was the best moment for both of us.

And the last time you stepped onto our house. You were crying in pain, and you couldn’t say a word, which was a sign of how agonizing it must be to keep fighting an unbeatable illness. Still, you would smile, you would hold my face with your warm hands and look at me with those eyes. Those unchanging eyes.

I remember when you were painting me, you were deeply in love with my blue eyes, and I would look at yours with soul and love. “I love your eyes so much! I’m painting it so I could keep it forever. So, stay still and look at me!” You would say. I smile and I felt tingles on my neck and onto your eyes I look, and I think of you. I would write about your eyes, but you would think it’s a waste of time and paper. But still, I would write because I too, would want to keep it forever. I remember writing about you. How your eyes are as beautiful as your kindred soul, and I would say I had fallen into a black hole of love just by looking at you, and we would laugh. I look into your eyes which revealed a golden halo at sunset, and suddenly I feel like I’m the luckiest person in the world. We have loved everything and anything the other couldn’t, and then we began to love ourselves as well.

If only I had the ability to stop time. I would make every moment last forever. I wouldn’t want to remember. I want to know you again, to feel you again. I’m scared that I would forget the way it feels to be in love and be loved by you. I want to know how it feels like to be held by your hands again and keep me from shattering just like the day you left. Just one moment more.

Winter nights were most difficult to handle. “Why did you leave me? I hope you stayed a little longer.” I would say under my breath. I would look at an empty bed and cry onto my knees. I miss you so much. The loneliness, the reoccurring thought of the one being left in the world on this cold numbing weather which I felt most of the pain. Still, I tried to breathe gently and then stand up at once.

Just before the alarm rings, I finally woke up from this long and lonely dream. I feel relieved, I feel like a burden was lifted. A tear finds itself sliding onto my neck. I’m getting up slowly and I look at the window, it’s spring again. I feel my heart fleeting like it had been liberated from everything. What does this mean – to breathe calmly on this day. Is this what acceptance feel like? For a long time, I stopped writing, since you were all I ever wrote about. And today, so swiftly I feel like I could write again.

The door knocks to the classic tune of da-di-di-da-da da-da! And our daughter enters our room to wake me up, but I had already woken. I saw a glimpse of you in her eyes, and she smiles as brightly and as beautiful as yours. It’s your death anniversary today, she had been waiting to visit you again. Though she doesn’t remember much about you, she was sure that you loved her, and she was happy. I would read to her the ones I’ve written about you, like a bedtime story she would smile and light up when she realizes she does the same things you do, she would tell me how much she loves us and aspires to be like you.

They say time heals, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes, Time remembers the best moments, and other times it brings pain. If only Time could help and stop itself, but Time couldn’t. Time wouldn’t stop for the world, there is only one way to go, and that is forward.

I take a glance at our daughter, a living memory of you. Your resemblance is quite uncanny, I was hoping she would look a little bit more like me, but I’m thankful she didn’t. I’m standing before you now, and I brought these flowers you liked, the snowdrops that you would sometimes imitate during winter in hopes you could see them in the spring. It was your own ritual, and I would do it with you wholeheartedly. I could only hope for peace as I look at your resting place, with the wind brushing my face. I stand here in silence; no words spoken. There are no words, or methods, or any means to get over you. People will somehow get there. It may take a long time, but then we realize that we did not suffer for nothing. It wasn't all meaningless, it was proof you were loved. People find ways to get over the things that are too painful, and most times we hurt ourselves even more. It is a process of how you try to accept the truth. Slowly and eventually, it will all be okay.

Our daughter sits by your tombstone with Yuno by her side. She begins to tell you stories about her best friends, and how happy she was that she could see you again like she’d never been here a few months ago for her birthday. I know you would come back if you could, and now I understand that. You had to leave, and it’s okay. Though you only live in the memories of the people you loved, and those who loved you dearly, you were never forgotten. If you were to live again, in another time, another person, another life, I hope you both would meet.

Oh, to be remembered. To take you as you are. To love and to be loved. What a wonderful thing.

I know you. You are in the stars that watch over the earth. You are in the clouds that carry the burdens of the world. And you are in the wind that swiftly passes by on a spring day. And soon, I know I would be with you there. Beyond the clouds and the stars, beyond galaxies and the vast universe.

I will meet you there, at the river when we first met.

Sincerely Yours

June 15, 2021 07:58

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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