What We Keep

by Jennifer Millikin

Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell.

Over half of all marriages end in divorce, and the ones that don’t are just two people who’ve settled upon an acceptable level of unhappiness.”

Grief has always fascinated me. It is an emotion so layered, so nuanced. One moment it can be as soft as a gentle rain, the next, an outraged typhoon. Some people refuse to admit its presence. Others drown in it.

True loneliness isn’t being alone. It’s being with someone else and still finding yourself alone. A truth I wish I never learned.

But it’s ok. I’m ok. Sometimes, ok is enough.

He once saved me from a fire. But when it was all said and done, he’s the one who burned me down.

The happily ever after has claws. Imagine that.

“Why didn’t you come for me five months ago? Why wasn’t I your first stop?” How can I explain it to her? There are a million words I can choose from, but they all fall flat. Instead, I choose a story. “You have a yellow dress with blue flowers printed on it. It has sleeves like a T-shirt, but it’s low-cut.” Using the pointer fingers on both hands, I demonstrate a deep ‘v’ going down the front of my chest. “It reaches half-way down your thighs, and you look like an angel when you wear it.” Her eyes widen. “I bought that dress last summer.” My heart beats double time. “You were my first stop.”

Bad decisions are not the property of bad people.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about this. And it’s not ugliness. All the mistakes that make us human, they’re not ugly. They’re as beautiful as all the pretty things we do.”

“There’s a lot more life out there for you. Don’t hold yourself back because you think you don’t deserve more. If you’re not careful, you’ll become your own jailor.”

The way it was. My lips on yours. Your hand in mine. I thought we were fine. Fine isn’t what we were. I broke us. Choked the life from us. The wolf arrived. And I surrendered. I’ll retrace my steps to show you. If you’re not done, neither am I.

Everyone, at one point or another, hurts the person they love the most. How can we not? Real love demands we strip ourselves, and bare our souls. It is a vulnerable, messy affair, and nobody escapes unscathed. I think the point, at the end of the day, is to decide whether you can forgive Gabriel’s mistakes, and move forward. If the promise of the future is enough to make you forgive the past, then do it.”