The Infinity Between Us

by N.S. Perkins

“Give me the summer. Stay here with me for eight weeks, or however long you have, and give me the chance to show you why you used to love it.

“How many memories do you have with me? Something like an infinity, right? You couldn’t count them all.” I nod. “And if you think about it, I have an infinity of memories with you, too.” The corners of my lips twitch up. “So there’s an infinity of memories within me, and an infinity of memories within you. But the infinity between us? It’s even grander.”

It was so gradual, I couldn’t say that one moment it wasn’t there and the next it was. But at some point, I’d had to face the fact that these moments were becoming more frequent and more intense. There was this small part of me that saw Will as something more.

I could recognize him from the feel of his frame, from the timbre of his laugh, or even from the smell clinging to his skin. I know him like I know myself.

“I know when you look at me, you see everything that went wrong, but when I look at you?” He licks his lips. “Violet, when I look at you, I still see the love of my life.”

the beauty of a real friendship is that no matter how much time passes, you’ll still be able to catch up on what you missed and pick up where you left off. I mean, just look at us right now.”

“You want to know why it didn’t work with any of these girls in college?” I swallow. Do I? Of course I do. After I nod, he brings a hand to my face and traces the shape of it with the tip of his index finger. Goosebumps form on my flesh, his touch so delicate yet so meaningful. “They weren’t you,” he declares simply, like this is a well-known fact. “What?” “They weren’t you, V. I didn’t realize it before, but once I was with them, I expected their hair to smell like your strawberry shampoo and their hugs to feel like yours and their laughter to sound like yours. I was looking for you in every girl I met.”

“Fuck, do I love her.” She’s in every place I visit, in all the love songs I listen to. She’s in the chocolate-cherry ice cream I eat and the 2000s movies I watch and the Jeep I still drive and the thunderstorms outside my window and the quotes I read about love and pain and beauty and heartache. She’s ruined summer for me. Is this what going crazy feels like? The more years pass, the more I start to forgive you and Dad. Not because I’m not still mad at you two—I really, really am—but because I know this feeling is stronger than everything. It’s stronger than instinct or logic or compassion. Stronger than faith and beliefs and values. I know this because if Violet was here right now and told me to jump, I’d turn to her and simply say, “How high, baby?” I need help. Or I guess maybe I don’t. I’d rather have her live in my head than move on and forget about her. Not that I ever could. As you already know, she’s unforgettable.