Six Summers to Fall

by C.W. Farnsworth

Grief has no finite measure.

Most people seem to assume there’s an expiration date for grief. That after a set amount of time, you should no longer experience it.

It’s awfully simple to follow your heart when you don’t have to worry about paying bills. Not that I resent Drew’s success. It’s just easier to be brave with a safety net in place. One I don’t have and he does.

It’s those little things—the preserved things—that make facing big changes so hard. They make it too easy to pretend nothing is different from the last time I was here.

This fake boyfriend stuff is fun. None of the second-guessing or the stress that comes along with actually dating someone.

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.

tragedies never make any sense. They’re just weights we have to live with.”

Some people grow on you over time. Some people make an impact the second you meet them.

Every time I type more, I’m surprised all over again by how much is written. And I just keep adding to it, accumulating words like drops of rain form a puddle.

“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. But I still feel a warmth blossom in my chest. Coming from Drew, it doesn’t sound like a lie or a line. It sounds true. And I care what he thinks of me. Care more than I’ve ever considered anyone else’s opinion about anything, let alone me.

There are the carved muscles I’ve admired all week, chiseled biceps and broad shoulders and the stacked ridges of his abdomen. Muscles meant for action. For movement. For beautiful brutality.

Whenever I’d ask about the rest of the story, he would say, ‘That’s life. You’ll never know the ending.’

It also feels effortless. Right, like this was always meant to happen. The way the moon has phases and the ocean tides change. We seem inevitable.

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

Knowing someone is hurting and hiding it is a sharper pain than seeing it expressed.

I sit down and type when I want to escape the chaos in my head. It’s like talking with an old friend, someone you know so well because you created them.

we were the ones living life to the fullest. The ones who saw the beauty in the chaos.

in a matter of days, she’s managed to mean more to me than any other woman ever has.

My mother’s track record of telling me the full truth when it comes to my father’s health is spotty at best. And I know—I know—that it comes from a place of love. From the traditional parental role of protecting your child from the uglier parts of the world. But it also freaks me out more, wondering what might be getting withheld.

I spot Harper almost immediately, my attention drawn to her like the insects buzzing around the lights strung up. Like how a painter narrows in on a muse or a writer searches for a word.

convenience isn’t a requirement when it comes to love.”

Who falls in love in a week? Fools. But I think of Harper’s laugh. Her eyes. Her teasing. And there’s a good chance I’m a fool.

it’s terrifying to admit you like someone, let alone love them.”

I think even anyone who’s never been hurt is scared of loving and losing. I think that you can be strong and independent and also rely on someone else.