Unloved

by Katy Regnery

I long for someone. In my loneliest moments, I long for someone so fiercely, it aches. I want someone to hold me, to whisper in my ear, to braid their fingers through mine and breathe against my skin. I want to know love again. In fact, I actively yearn for it, though I can’t actually imagine accepting it.

“Saying goodbye doesn’t mean forgetting. Moving on doesn’t mean you never loved him. I’m telling you to let go. I’m telling you that you’re allowed to be happy.”

She wears sunglasses, but as she sits down, she pushes them on top of her head, taking a deep, weary breath and letting it go. And the world stops spinning. And all the oxygen made by every tree in that forest is sucked away, leaving me light-headed. Because I have never seen such a beautiful woman in my life. Not in real life, when I was little. Not in books. Nowhere. Her eyes. Her eyes are the same green as ivy leaves after a rainfall. Deep and alive. Bright and unforgettable. The sort of green that heralds spring and promises rebirth. Glorious, vibrant, and wide, with sweeping, dark lashes, those eyes steal my breath away.

wish I was the sun so I could shine down on her, so I could examine every peak and valley of her face until I have it memorized and can recall it at any lonesome moment: the sad, beautiful, green-eyed girl from the forest.

The only thing I know with any certainty is that I couldn’t leave her. So I carry her. Seven miles on my back. All evening and into the night. Rain pelts me from every direction. Wind whips my hair into my face and debris into my eyes. More than once I lose my footing and stumble, my sheer desperation to bring Brynn to safety the only thing that rights our bodies before a dozen disastrous falls. My back feels, at times, like it will break. My legs ache. My arms burn. And still I carry her. All the way home.

But this human being—the beautiful girl asleep on my chest, her ear over my heart—needs me right now. So I hold her close and let my eyes shut as the sun lowers over “the greatest mountain.” I don’t really know her. I don’t have any right to her. I shouldn’t get attached to her. In a handful of days she will be gone. But right now, there is simply nowhere else on earth I’d rather be.

This man saved my life. Several times. Once on the mountain, when he stopped Wayne. Twice when he carried me to safety. Three times when he cared for my injuries.

The way it felt to hold a woman in my arms, the overwhelming feelings of protectiveness and gratitude that I have now experienced—it’s something I never want to unknow.

“Would you like a book or two to pass the time? There’s a lot.” “Sure,” I say. “I’d love one.” “What do you like to read?” Instantly my cheeks flush. My favorite kind of books are romances.

Anyone with half a brain loves romance novels, and the rest are lying.

There is no me without you. . . . and it’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before.

“Sooner or later everyone was driven to love someone they could never have.”

Saying goodbye doesn’t mean forgetting. Moving on doesn’t mean you never loved him. I’m telling you to let go. I’m telling you that you’re allowed to be happy.

The minutes I’ve spent with her are the greatest gift my quiet life has ever known.

Everything is Brynn. And I am addicted to everything. She is air. And water. Smiles and soft sighs as she falls asleep in my arms. She is heat and warmth. She is promise and hope. She is normalcy and company and my temporary talisman against loneliness. She moves like the air or the dark, surrounding me, inside me, of the world and yet belonging intimately and particularly to me. She is everything I want that I can’t have, more and more necessary for survival, which means it will destroy me when I let her go. I know this. And yet, I cannot slow down or take less.

I love her. I will love her until the sky falls. Until the sun and moon fail to rise. Until Katahdin crumbles. I will love her forever.

“You are . . .,” he murmurs breathily, moving his hips up experimentally as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, “the greatest . . . treasure . . . of my entire life.”

Would it be possible to still live a quiet life without being quite so isolated? Without being so hidden? Would it be possible to have a place where our privacy was at a premium, but not quite so far away from society? Because that, I think to myself as I wash the vegetables I’ve harvested today, could be a plan for life.

I love you, I wish I could say. And if things were different, I’d love you forever, my sweet angel. Thank you for giving me the happiest days of my sorry life. Thank you for seeing the good in me when I know there is so much bad deep inside. Thank you for loving me when I was certain I’d spend the rest of my life unloved. I promise—I give you my most sacred vow—that I will never come looking for you again. I will leave you alone to find happiness. I will leave you alone so that I know you’re safe. You are, and will forever be, my life’s greatest treasure, and I will still be loving you on the day I die, Brynn Cadogan.