The Two of Us

by Taylor Torres

When people walk away from me, I have a hard time believing it’s temporary. I watch their backs and pray with everything in me that the world won’t snatch them up and deposit them elsewhere.

Something about being around him… terrifies me. And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that fear can bind you. Keep you away from the things that could very well fill your soul. The things that could heal you. We’re well acquainted, fear and I.

I don’t have siblings, but there was a time when the two kids across the street made me feel like I did.

It’s an aching realization, realizing I’m not the kind of daughter he needs. I’m scared and small. A shell constantly on the brink of cracking. I can’t offer the comfort he truly needs. How can I carry him when I can hardly carry myself?

“Because I missed you. I missed you every fucking day. I miss you right now and you’re right in front of me.”

“Always.” He pushes the hair from my face. “I’ve loved you since the day you knocked on my front door with that godforsaken cat in your arms.” I choke out a warbled laugh and his voice becomes rough with emotion. “I’ve loved you since that kiss outside of Old Maple and I’ve loved you since we both lost the person we loved the most. I loved you then and I love you now. And if you’ll have me… I’ll love you until my last breath.” My tears fall freely now. “You’re the love of my life, Mara, but you’re my best friend too. I like you as much as I love you. I could have a million lifetimes with you and it still wouldn’t be enough. So, take your time.” “I—” “Don’t say it.” My face falls. “What? Why not?” “Because when you say those three words,” he says, dragging his thumb across my bottom lip, “I want to see our future in your eyes. Not our past.”

“I succeeded in my goal of never loving anyone that deeply, Mara. Until I had you.” My eyes close against the tears. “I know I’ve run away from you because of it, mi cielo.” Her voice shakes. “And at this point, I’m not sure I can be any other way. All I know how to do is be afraid.” Then she adds, almost inaudibly, “But I want to try.”

“Healing isn’t linear, Mara,” Mitsu says. “Some days it’s five steps forward and other days it’s seven steps back. There’s no finish line. The goal is just to keep stepping.”

“Promise me…” She scrunches her nose in thought. “Promise me that no matter what, it’ll always be the two of us.” I grin, squeezing our clasped hands. “The two of us. I promise.”