Beautiful Graves

by L.J. Shen

The thing about tragedies is, you can never outrun the Big Alone. At some point, it catches up with you. In the middle of the night. When you’re taking a hasty shower. When you roll in bed and the linen is pressed and smooth where your lover should be. The big moments in your life are always experienced in solitude.

Not her first tragedy and What is she going to do now? They’re not wrong. I have no idea what I’ll do. Because even in the best of times, I’ve always been torn. Between the man I am about to bury. And the man standing behind my back.

“No more aggravating the locals. If your ass gets in a street fight, I’m going to walk past and pretend I don’t know you.” That’s a lie. I’d take a bullet for her. It’s just that I would strongly prefer not to.

“Mainstream people aren’t revolutionary. Nothing good ever comes out of them. Average equals comfort.”

“What if I’m not fucking awesome?” “You are,” he says, sure as the morning sun. “If you were mediocre, you wouldn’t be running circles in my head.”

“Is it always like that?” I whisper. He knows exactly what I’m asking, because he shakes his head and says, “No, Ever. It’s never like that. This . . .” He dips his head, kissing the shell of my ear. “This is heaven. This is worthy of death.”

Perfect is boring, I hear Mom yawning in my head. It’s a state where there’s no room to grow.

It’s a terrible existence. To feel like you’re not worthy of good things happening in your life.”

Because what’s one night in an ocean of days in your life?

“Because I’m not used to being happy. To celebrating holidays. To . . .” “Living?” he finishes for me softly. “It’s okay, Lynne. I’m here to teach you. And I have all the time in the world.”

“But maybe love is simply putting up with the other person’s bad judgment and questionable taste in order to keep them,”

“I loved you, Ever Lawson. But I want you to know, you’re the worst thing that’s ever fucking happened to me.”

“You goddamn know Presley was never in the race.” Joe shuts me up with a dirty, violent kiss. “As long as you have breath in you, no one else stands a chance.”

What you don’t understand—what your generation doesn’t understand, I think—is that things are naturally messy. They’ve always been messy. Perfect doesn’t exist. Embarrassment and shame are a package deal. They’re a part of life. You cannot remove these compartments from your existence. You have to meet your challenges head-on.

‘Be thankful to those who helped you when you were down, and be thankful to those who didn’t. The former are worth keeping, and the latter helped you realize it.’”

“There is someone. But it’s not serious.” “Why isn’t it serious?” “That’s a question you should ask her husband.”

And I live my life the way I think Dom would have wanted me to. I think that’s the best we can do under the circumstances. Not let death dictate life for the living.

Hope made me realize something important. The one thing that makes a person rich is not their money, or their talent, or even their connections. It is their hope. Where there is hope, there is life. And where there is life, anything is possible.