Six Summers to Fall

by C.W. Farnsworth

Time only heals if you acknowledge its passing. Grief has no finite measure.

always been my strategy when it comes to interacting with my family. The more obvious I make our differences—my shortcomings—the more civil our conversations are.

Time around him was memorable—only because of my stupid crush on him.

I’m in a melancholy mood, lost in the past and worried about the future. No part of me is prepared to flirt or to smile or to act like I have my life together in the present.

It’s awfully simple to follow your heart when you don’t have to worry about paying bills.

It’s those little things—the preserved things—that make facing big changes so hard.

Staying away was easier than missing it. Love enhances other emotions—for better or for worse.

He grins, and that smirk really ought to come with a warning label.

This line should be cheesy as hell, but I love it

I’m trying to grow up. To reject the inclination toward burying my feelings and insecurities with attention and cheap thrills.

Time always passes differently in happy moments.

Just another failure on my part. In addition to being single and only marginally successful by most people’s measures, I’m also a shitty big sister. I can’t even manage to go to my sister’s wedding without having an existential crisis.

I hurl it into the front yard. “Fuck,” I exhale. Drew reaches over and squeezes my knee. “Fuck,” I repeat, softer.

on the porch of the house where my dad killed himself.

Sucked in a huge breath here 💔

so I assume she’s single. But maybe an ex followed her here and is attempting to make amends? The thought bothers me more than it should.

It doesn’t matter that she intrigued me then and fascinates me now.

All my favorite memories of this place—sneaking beers and lazy days on the lake and s’mores and stupid dares—include her.

Going to Amelia’s wedding has nothing to do with Amelia and everything to do with Harper. I got the strong sense last night and this morning that Harper doesn’t have a whole lot of people in her corner. And I have the unexpected urge to stand there.

“Nothing…happened between us last night, right?” I grin. “You’d remember if it had.”

“I’ve never met him, actually,” I reply. “I’m dating his future sister-in-law, Harper.” I don’t consider myself a great liar. But there’s no false note in my voice. It’s easy to lie about something you want to be the truth, I guess.

Behind me, someone gasps. Again, I have to hold back a grin. This fake boyfriend stuff is fun.

My default setting is staying detached. It’s not intentional. I’m just good at it.

“These are my public pajamas, not my actual pajamas.”

This”—she leans down and grabs a T-shirt and a pair of shorts I’d be surprised to learn cover her entire ass—“is what I actually sleep in.”

Soooo real

My younger self never experienced what the full focus of his attention was like. My older—debatably wiser—self is used to sorting men into clear categories.

I wanted to cling. To talk about him with the two other people who had known him best. And every time I tried to, my mom and Amelia would resent it a little more. Until I was all alone in an ocean of my own grief.

“It’s a tragedy, Harper. And tragedies never make any sense. They’re just weights we have to live with.”

But I’m thinking everything about that kiss. Because it felt extraordinary, not normal. It felt like a beginning. Like a world-wrecker. Like a final first kiss.

My grip tightens around the can I’m holding as Harper threads her fingers with mine. We sit like that, holding hands, for the rest of lunch.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “You’re perfect.” I’m not. I’m so far from perfect that it’s laughable. I’m insecure and messy and broken, and I have a tendency to do or say the wrong thing.

because you’ve never listened. You wanted to be the one who grieved the most, and you wanted to do it your way—with

The truth is that I just like being close to him. And as someone who is proudly independent and cringes away from most public displays of affection with secondhand embarrassment, that’s saying a lot.

“Let her go do it at a reasonable hour.”

His arm twines around me the same way it did outside, my side fitting against his, like we’re two pieces from the same puzzle. A coziness appears in my chest, burning like a lit match. Drew keeps talking to Jared as I lean against him, acting as if this were a normal occurrence between us.

So hot

I tilt my head down to kiss her again because I’ve developed a craving for her lips that kissing seems to feed, not satisfy.

I’m a little wild. A lot reckless.

And I’ve never called a woman baby in my life. But for some reason, I want to use something more intimate than just her name.

If I’ve ruined all other men for her, it will be my proudest accomplishment.

“Give me a minute, and we can go again.” She laughs. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Halifax. I’ll expect you to deliver.”

That pretending around Harper is this easy because I’m falling for her for real.

With the beauty of this writing it’s easy to forget that they just “re”met two days ago…

Drew replies, putting his hat on backward. Fuck me. I have no idea why it’s hotter than having the brim facing ahead, but it is.

Lately, all the big moments have been hers. And that’s almost worse than missing him during mine.

Most people give in to me or get exasperated. Drew does neither. Last night, he made me wait. This morning, he turned me down. But I’ve never once felt rejected or like I was too much around him.

I love kissing Drew. Nothing I’ve ever experienced comes close to this thrill. I would rank it above oxygen or water as an essential to live.

And, yeah, we’re temporary. But I really wish we weren’t.

There’s no trace of a smile on her face. No lighter tone. Her voice is serious as she tells me, “Don’t leave without waking me up.”

But just for the record, convenience isn’t a requirement when it comes to love.”

Who falls in love in a week? Fools.

“I knew I wanted to marry Theo the first time I met him.” I blink at her. “No, you didn’t. You said you were just friends and that—” “I lied, Harper. Because it’s terrifying to admit you like someone, let alone love them.”

You lit up around him. I noticed. Theo noticed. Mom noticed. Simon noticed. Everyone noticed. That’s rare. And special. And real.”

“You like him, Harper. Let him know you like him.