closest friends and relatives, going to the funeral home, make the arrangements, and watching as they placed his pale gray coffin — slowly, always so slowly — down into the ground. It had taken eight months for the cancer to win out over his body and mind. Now, the process began for the rest of us to heal.
When I heard the sound of a car door slam, I shut my eyes. I had to say goodbye to someone else I loved. I told her to come at 4:00 thinking I’d be ready. I’d planned to go home right after the cemetery, alone, so that I could think. I should be prepared, right? No, I was just kidding myself. No amount of time could prepare you for letting go. Time didn’t wait for anyone, especially me. I’d never be ready to let her go. Her bubbly laugh, the way she looked down and to the right when she was uncomfortable, the scatter of freckles across her shoulders that I wanted to kiss, were just a few of the qualities that made me desperate to be with her all the time. Always . She was brilliant on a full scholarship with a life in Boston, while I was going to be stuck here, fixing my present so that I could live a better future.
What I was going to do was all for the better. She deserved every bit of happiness and freedom — every bit of attention. The sheer number of guys that would give her the attention she needed left me with a burning acidic feeling in my stomach, making the hole that was already there even bigger.
I had to let her go. I loved her, but I couldn’t be with her or she’d see how many bills I struggled to pay, how behind I was in school, and how I couldn’t take care of her.
When I heard her knock, I went to the door and opened it. She immediately ran into my arms, holding me tight. I tangled my fingers in her hair — the dark, thick hair I loved to wipe away from her face. God, I would miss her. She broke out into a sob, and if my body knew how to, I’d be crying right now as well. This wasn’t like pulling off a Band-Aid just to get it over with. This was slow, painful, and etched in my brain.
“I’m going to miss you too,” I said into her hair, and she just shook harder. I rubbed her back and held her over the same rug I’d been standing on for the last hour. We were two best friends with our fingers outstretched, barely touching and trying to hang on.
“I’m going to stay here with you,” she blurted out through her sobs and placed her chin on my chest. I looked down at her and wiped the tears that streamed down her cheeks.
“You can’t,” I said with a tone of sorrow I didn’t know I was capable of.
She nodded wildly. “I can. I’m going to transfer and complete my Masters degree here. I’ll move back.”
“Peach, you have a full scholarship.” I ran my finger along her temple and down the side of her face, in an effort to memorize her features.
She waved her hand as if it was no big deal. “Pfft, I’ll get a loan.” She took a step back. “I only need two years and after that...” She stopped to take in breaths, her chest heaving. “And I can work anywhere.”
No. It wasn’t right. I pulled her chin up. “Hey, look at me. This house is on the brink of being sold. I need to finish paying for my grandmother’s house, and my sister needs me. I need to grow up, Peach, stop partying, and keep the business going … I’m not good for you right now.”
She disentangled a tissue that I noticed was in her hand and wiped at her eyes.
“Dre, you don’t have to do this. I can be there for you. Please don’t do this …” She wrapped her arms around me again and buried her face in my chest. She was pleading with me, and I hated it. I didn’t want her to have to deal with anything. I had to take care of my family and ultimately, take care of her, because she was my family too. I listened to all the reasons in my head on repeat: My grandmother was getting older, more fragile, and my sister needed me. I hadn’t even finished college, for fuck’s sake! Panic rolled
When I heard the sound of a car door slam, I shut my eyes. I had to say goodbye to someone else I loved. I told her to come at 4:00 thinking I’d be ready. I’d planned to go home right after the cemetery, alone, so that I could think. I should be prepared, right? No, I was just kidding myself. No amount of time could prepare you for letting go. Time didn’t wait for anyone, especially me. I’d never be ready to let her go. Her bubbly laugh, the way she looked down and to the right when she was uncomfortable, the scatter of freckles across her shoulders that I wanted to kiss, were just a few of the qualities that made me desperate to be with her all the time. Always . She was brilliant on a full scholarship with a life in Boston, while I was going to be stuck here, fixing my present so that I could live a better future.
What I was going to do was all for the better. She deserved every bit of happiness and freedom — every bit of attention. The sheer number of guys that would give her the attention she needed left me with a burning acidic feeling in my stomach, making the hole that was already there even bigger.
I had to let her go. I loved her, but I couldn’t be with her or she’d see how many bills I struggled to pay, how behind I was in school, and how I couldn’t take care of her.
When I heard her knock, I went to the door and opened it. She immediately ran into my arms, holding me tight. I tangled my fingers in her hair — the dark, thick hair I loved to wipe away from her face. God, I would miss her. She broke out into a sob, and if my body knew how to, I’d be crying right now as well. This wasn’t like pulling off a Band-Aid just to get it over with. This was slow, painful, and etched in my brain.
“I’m going to miss you too,” I said into her hair, and she just shook harder. I rubbed her back and held her over the same rug I’d been standing on for the last hour. We were two best friends with our fingers outstretched, barely touching and trying to hang on.
“I’m going to stay here with you,” she blurted out through her sobs and placed her chin on my chest. I looked down at her and wiped the tears that streamed down her cheeks.
“You can’t,” I said with a tone of sorrow I didn’t know I was capable of.
She nodded wildly. “I can. I’m going to transfer and complete my Masters degree here. I’ll move back.”
“Peach, you have a full scholarship.” I ran my finger along her temple and down the side of her face, in an effort to memorize her features.
She waved her hand as if it was no big deal. “Pfft, I’ll get a loan.” She took a step back. “I only need two years and after that...” She stopped to take in breaths, her chest heaving. “And I can work anywhere.”
No. It wasn’t right. I pulled her chin up. “Hey, look at me. This house is on the brink of being sold. I need to finish paying for my grandmother’s house, and my sister needs me. I need to grow up, Peach, stop partying, and keep the business going … I’m not good for you right now.”
She disentangled a tissue that I noticed was in her hand and wiped at her eyes.
“Dre, you don’t have to do this. I can be there for you. Please don’t do this …” She wrapped her arms around me again and buried her face in my chest. She was pleading with me, and I hated it. I didn’t want her to have to deal with anything. I had to take care of my family and ultimately, take care of her, because she was my family too. I listened to all the reasons in my head on repeat: My grandmother was getting older, more fragile, and my sister needed me. I hadn’t even finished college, for fuck’s sake! Panic rolled
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