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June always feels like a new beginning.
I’m still not sure if I like her yet, but I want to help her. I don’t want her to be sad like me.
She hums a lullaby. It’s not the same one Mom sang to me, but it makes me both happy and sad at the same time. Happy because I feel loved. Sad because the person I love most isn’t the one holding my hand and singing me lullabies.
“Mario doesn’t just stop being Mario because he gets scared. He keeps fighting. He keeps going and going until he defeats all the scary things,” I say, my voice hushed in the quiet auditorium. “Think about it. He gets a whole lot of chances before he gets it right.”
“I couldn’t find your elephant friend, but Mama found this picture in the attic, so I did my best. He’s not lost anymore. He’ll live in this picture with you forever.”
I’d rather be here, with June, celebrating another year of her life instead of wallowing in the life I lost.
I never wanted to be that black cloud in her rainbow sky.
“Because she’s yours.”
And it’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. If my father hadn’t murdered my mother, I would still just be the neighbor boy and she would be the girl next door. Instead, he branded us with a label, forced me into something twisted. He turned the only girl I’ve ever wanted into the only girl I can never have. But I still love her.
The first law of nature is self-preservation. Cut off that which may harm you. But if it is worth preserving, and is meaningful, nourish it and have no regrets. —T. F. HODGE, FROM WITHIN I RISE
“Cool. Kip and I are on duty that night. Maybe we’ll stop by and make sure the princess isn’t getting herself into any trouble.” He looks pointedly at June, then winks. She pales. “Absolutely not. That’s humiliating.” “Why? One brother is going, why not two?” His eyes glide back to me. Subtle, so subtle, but damn it, I swear there’s something there. Brother.
“Life’s too short to hate the people we love the most.”
Who used his last moments on earth to forgive me for breaking a childhood promise.
“You were unsure which pain is worse: the shock of what happened, or the ache for what never will.” —SIMON VAN BOOY, EVERYTHING BEAUTIFUL BEGAN AFTER
“I’m just an orphan,” I continue. “Life’s forgotten transient. I’m the by-product of a man who didn’t give two shits about me—who killed my mother, then killed himself. “I’m the leftovers of a tragedy, like that steak you forgot about in the fridge, the one you really wanted to eat. It had so much potential to be good, but you spoiled it. And you don’t want to throw it away because that would be such a damn waste, so you just let it fester, stinking up everything around it that’s healthy and thriving, wishing you had gotten to it in time. It’s futile, though… You always end up tossing it.”
“I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but the thought of another man putting his hands on you makes me borderline murderous.”
“No relationship comes without a fight, but it has to be worth fighting for. It has to be worth all the sacrifices you’ll inevitably have to make.”
“It felt like I’d give my dying breath just to have one more weak moment with you.”
Last night I was lucky… But not today. Today is just another tragedy.
You’re trying to justify a crime. You’re defending a predator.”
It’s not forgiveness, but it’s something. A crumb. And when you’ve lost everything that matters, a crumb might as well be a four-course meal.
“Loving someone may not be a choice, but acting on that feeling when you know it’s wrong is.”
Do you want to know exactly what’s hiding in that light at the end of the tunnel? Well, I’ll tell you. That’s your legs working again after months of physical therapy. That’s the medication readjusting the chemicals in your brain after you took a razor to your wrist. That’s the bronze AA chip after a year of painful sobriety. That’s the warm tickle in your stomach when you find love again after a messy divorce. That’s forgiveness after you’ve hit rock bottom. That light shines differently for everyone, but at the end of the day, it all amounts to the same thing. It’s the better version of
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I realize that I no longer fear my lasts. Because I know— Every last will be with them.
