When We Were

by Diana Elliot Graham

Had everything just been as I had thought it to be, it would have been a normal conversation, reminiscing about funny scenes from our movie,

‘All’s fair in love and literature,’ he said.

love hot chocolate, but rarely drink it. It’s always been more of a special occasion drink. A making memories drink.

“I think this is a ‘making memories’ kind of day.

“This feels like a one-small-step-for-man kind of moment,” I say.

He laughs,“You think this is as monumental as landing on the moon?”

“I don’t know yet...

he settles me back onto my feet. Planting one more quick kiss, like the period at the end of the sentence,

“I’ve told you. I’m not worried about keeping score, AB. You can have all the points, but I get you.”

He cleared my mind so he could fill it completely. So, there would not be noise or distraction when his hands held my face, and his eyes held mine. “I love you.” Replenishing the silence with only that singular thought. It’s no longer slow-motion. The rolling waves of snow no longer thundering down the mountain. They reached the bottom, and we are buried together under the weight of the words.

Where did her mind go, where did her heart go?

If you want to leave, okay, then at least let me make sure you’re fine one last time.

Like opening my mouth would tear my eyes from her, and I don’t want to look away afraid I’d miss something.

I’m in a place far worse than anger. The emotion I possess is so much more depressing than sadness. Those two emotions or any on the spectrum between can motivate, inspire action. The pendulum swings between them, but where I stand is different. The emotion I possess is paralyzing. It’s resignation. I’m resigned. There is nothing to do but understand that there is nothing to do.

“I always thought that there was nothing I wouldn’t have given you if you asked, and when you showed up later, what you asked for was closure. I should have paid attention, that you standing in front of me, yelling at me, that was you asking. You were asking, telling me, literally screaming at me, and I let you down. I let you go. Worse, I let you think I wanted you to go. Turns out I could have given you anything you wanted except the things I didn’t know how to give.”

I lost time as I sat there curled up in him. I tried to pretend I was back in the brick bubble. Held in Reid’s arms, in pleasure not tragic comfort. But every breath I took, it was licorice and pine, not cinnamon and cedar. Every inhale was wrong. My cheek rested against skin that wasn’t his. The grip around me is tight without the same tenderness. I can’t pretend.

I’ve lived without you long enough, if you don’t think I have reason enough to apologize, then you’re making me live without your forgiveness as well.

I don’t know what else I can say or do to express how incredibly, tragically, devastatingly, sorry I am.”

“It’s not about us being together now, but I’m here because I needed you to understand, without a shadow of a doubt, how I felt about you when we were.

“I’ve missed you. You were the love of my life, and I will always care about you more than circumstance allows.”

Her eyes rim with tears. No. Those are mine. Maybe you’re a fool, sitting here like this professing emotions from a lifetime ago. I don’t know who could look at her like this and feel anything but the resurgence of that love. I’ve lied to myself long enough that it hasn’t always been here. Perhaps just the smallest ember of those fires we set within each remained, but we never stoked it, never tended it, it never grew. Instead, it just flickered as a memory. Until now.

“So it doesn’t matter how we choose to remember what happened between us. I know two things...” He looks deep in my eyes, preparing himself for something that seems difficult to admit. “One.” He holds up a finger, and lets the soft smile pull on his lips. “I loved you.” “Two.” He extends a second finger, and the smile falls flat. “Not enough.”

I start again from the beginning, eager to get to the front door of the house we never built.