Opening my eyes, the mirror seemed to only reflect the messy room I was standing in. It is not our room, it is not that room, and it is not my room. I smiled because it was just a messy room. Grace wanted to clean it up a million times, but I wouldn’t let her. I wasn’t ready for the memories of that beautiful day, our last day together before getting in his car to be erased, but I knew the memories could never be erased because they were engrained in my mind forever.
Moving away from the dresser and looking around the room again, I asked myself, “What have I become?” But I already knew the answer. I’d become empty, almost completely void of emotion and I didn’t want to be like that anymore. I needed to let time back in this room. I knew I had to put that day away. I needed to become me again. With that thought, I reached down and grabbed my running shoes. I headed towards the door and smiled, but not before snatching my iPod. I would start my day with a run and listen to some music. I would run and clear my head. Then maybe when I came back I’d start what I knew I should have already started.
Chapter Five
EVERY STORM RUNS OUT OF RAIN
Every storm has a last raindrop
Just like the darkness turns to dawn
The pain of losing someone fades away
Every storm has a last raindrop
But the pain of lost love never really goes away.
November 2011 - Present Day
Fall is in the air. There is a cool breeze all around me blowing orange, yellow, and red leaves in circles. As I exit the park to head back to my house, I pass by a bunch of kids raking leaves into piles and then watch as they jump in, carefree, with no worries about what lies beneath. I wonder what I would feel if I were to jump into those leaves.
I have been running almost every day. Running makes me feel human again; it sets my mind free and allows me to forget everything. I ran five miles this morning and felt like I could have pushed myself another five, but I promised Aerie I would meet her for lunch. I have been meeting her for lunch at least twice a week and for dinner almost every Friday night.
Walking through the front door I notice the boxes, some labeled, some still empty, piled in the corners and know I should finish packing up his things. Maybe later. I’ve started sleeping in my room again. On the nights that I wake up thinking he is still here, I end up sleeping on the couch, but that is happening less and less these days and so are the nightmares of his fatal shooting.
After taking a shower in my bathroom, I go out to the garage. His car is parked next to mine, our surfboards are in the corner, and our water gear is piled on the shelves. He’s just everywhere but nowhere at all.
As I drive to the restaurant I notice familiar surroundings that remind me of him as I do every time I leave the neighborhood. He’s at the corner bus stop where he would drop off Mr. Langston, our elderly neighbor, every Wednesday morning. He’s at the drug store, where he would go whenever he ran out of something, always in a hurry. Reminders of him are everywhere.
As memories flood my mind and thoughts of what used to be cloud my vision, I finally understand what I have to do to get myself out of the pouring rain that I have been standing in for over a year. It is today, as I drive down my street, what used to be our street that I finally realize it is time for my own personal storm to end. No umbrella can stop me from getting wet while living in that house, what used to be our house. It’s like the thunder has finally stopped crackling in my head, and as the clouds begin to move away, tiny rays of sunshine start to filter in. I know I have to move out of the home we once shared.
Walking into the restaurant, I smile as I spot Aerie right away in her jet-black suit and hot-pink blouse, all buttoned up and put together. I glance down at myself in jeans, Converse sneakers, a Bon Jovi 1987 concert Tour t-shirt, and my leather jacket. I am already anticipating the concerned look she’s going to give me.
I sit at the white linen-clothed round table in the middle of the restaurant; she’s on her cell phone, no doubt shouting orders at someone. She hits the end button and places her phone on the table as she stands to greet me. As expected, she looks me up and down before hugging me like I’m made of glass and might break if she squeezes too tight.
“Still not eating,” are the first words out of her mouth before lifting a piece of my hair and wrinkling her nose. “Dahlia Girl, I’m taking you to see my hairdresser tomorrow, and I don’t want any lip from you. Your hair isn’t even blonde anymore.”
Glancing around the restaurant at all the people eating lunch, involved in their own conversations, I give her a mock smile. “So nice to see you too. How are you?”
I continue in a very high-pitched voice with, “Glad you could meet me for lunch.”
I resume my normal voice, rolling my eyes and admonishing, “Seriously, maybe you could start out with something like that Aerie before laying into me.” I try to keep a straight face but I can’t hold back the giggle that escapes my mouth, which sounds more like a snort.
I know she’s worried about me, but we have gone through this little exchange every time I meet her somewhere and really enough is enough. Last week she took me to get my nails done after having grabbed my hands and wincing at the dirt still stuck under my nails from gardening. In my defense, she called me last minute when I was weeding the flowerbed and I only had time for a quick shower. It’s not like I’m walking around dirty and unshowered for Christ sakes.
I decide to move on and tell her my decision.
“I had a revelation on the way over here.”
“Really? And what would that be?”
Attempting to restrain my voice as much as I could manage, while fighting back the tears, I say, “I’m going to sell the house.”
I see the concern written on her face as she responds, “Are you sure? I mean, are you sure you’re ready? This is kind of sudden. The last time Grace talked to you about the idea, you shut her down flat.”
I shift a little in my chair and take a sip of water. “Yeah, I’m sure. Everything about the house reminds me of Ben, and it’s not just the house, it’s the whole damn neighborhood. I need to do this. I know I do.” As I tell Aerie how I feel, as I finally start to open up to her for the first time in such a long time, I realize that I just said his name. I actually used his name. I said Ben. I said the name I must have said over a million times until almost two years ago, and I know my emptiness is starting to fill back up. I know I will always have him in my heart, but Ben will forever be in memories not in life. My whole body tenses and locks up at the realization, and my eyes rim with tears. I battle with my internal emotions to relax and will these drops not to spill over.
Aerie reaches across the table and gently wipes one of my cheeks where a few of the persistent tears flowed against my will. She takes a deep breath, and I see her eyes start to fill with tears as well, having realized that I said his name. “I think it’s a good idea Dahlia. I think you need to remove yourself from the things that prevent you from moving forward.”
I take my napkin and wipe my mouth for no reason. “I know I need to, I just don’t know if I can.”
The waiter approaches and takes our order. Once he leaves, Aerie looks directly at me with concern still etched on her face. “Yes you can, you are stronger than you think, and you have me, you have Grace, and Serena too. We will all help.”
Putting her napkin on her lap, she gives me a slight smile. “I think moving is the best decision you’ve made in a while.”
Her voice cracking a little as she adds, “And this is none of my business, but you know that has never stopped me before, so I’m just going to throw this out there for you.”
She pauses looking anywhere except at me and then continues. “I was thinking, why don’t you give his car to Trent?”
Her words come out fast and I can see the tears begin to well in her eyes. After all this time, Aerie still hasn’t been able to say his name to me, probably for fear I will break down.
The atmosphere in the open restaurant is causal, but I suddenly feel stifled as tears fill my own eyes now, and I’m sure I’m going to surprise the shit out of her with my next quick response.
“You know what, that’s a great idea. In fact I’ll call Serena and see if it’s okay. I have actually been thinking about that for awhile, since Trent turns sixteen next week.”
I take a piece of bread and rip off the crust. I dunk it in the olive oil in hopes that my eyes will stop stinging by the distraction.
“I think Ben would have wanted his nephew to have his car, he loved that car and he loved Trent. I know Trent misses Ben too, surfing with him, and driving to the beach with him. Trent always told Ben his car had so much power and gumption and loved to go anywhere with him.”
Shaking my head and laughing a little, I think about how happy this will make Trent. I’m also trying not to cry at the thought of Ben’s car not being parked next to mine, as I chew on the piece of bread that I feel I might choke on.
Aerie laughs a little too, but tears are rolling down her cheeks. “Power and gumption, those are two great words to describe him, not just his car.”
She picks up her napkin and dabs the tears off her cheeks. “God he did love that damn car.”
Her laughter fades as she reaches her hand across the table and sets it next to my plate, silently asking for mine.
“Dahlia, you know how much he loved you.”
She pauses a minute like she’s trying to decide if she should say something or not as she starts to pat my hand.
“And because of how much he loved you, you know he would want you to move on and live your life. I think he would be happy with your decision.”
Removing her hand from mine, she clears her throat. Smiling, and just barely laughing now, she adds, “I also know if he were here, he would have kicked your ass for not making that decision sooner.”
Aerie pauses again, raising her water glass and waits for me to do the same. Then she clinks her glass to mine. “To bright days ahead, Dahlia girl, I know they’re coming.”
And before either of us can cry, our food arrives.
We spend the rest of lunch just chatting about nothing, and I really enjoy the food and the company. As we finish, Aerie’s look becomes more serious and determined. “I need a favor,” she says, tilting her head to the side and smiling at me. “Tom quit yesterday, and I need you back at work, I’m really short staffed in the photo department at the magazine. Dahlia girl, please I need you.”
I sigh knowing I’m not ready to commit to anything full-time, and without thinking, I quickly answer, “I’d be happy to help you out until you get someone else.”
Aerie’s face contorts slightly as she says, “No, I mean come back to work full-time. Take Tom’s job. I need you.”
Crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair, I look at her. She’s a vision of beauty with her slightly wavy bright blonde hair, her perky little nose, and petite toned body. Underneath that beauty I know lurks a beast. I have a feeling I’m about to see that beastly side as I bring this conversation to an end.
“Aerie, come on, don’t ask me to make such a big decision. Don’t say you need a favor and then not like my answer, it’s not f**king fair.”
She knows I can never resist a request when someone asks with such need. I’m just a sucker like that—always have been. “I only just decided to sell the house. Let me get through that first and then we can talk about work, okay?” I look her straight in the eyes and add, “But I will help you on my terms. So, is working only on an as-needed basis okay for now?”
Surprisingly, Aerie’s irritation seems to smooth quickly. Sighing, she takes a sip of her water and just looks at me. As she pushes her plate aside, she smirks and says, “That’s called freelancing, and in my defense, I didn’t know you were going to come here and tell me you decided to sell your house. So I’m sorry. Okay?” She sticks her tongue out at me for good measure.
I take my napkin off my lap and smile as I roll my eyes at her. “Whatever. Do you want my help or not?” She just laughs and so do I.
Aerie started working at Sound Music right out of college while I went to grad school. She worked her way up the ladder quickly and now manages the main features department. Once I graduated I went to work for her as a photo stylist. My love is photography but my passion is music, so with my degree in place I was able to meld my love and passion together into what became a dream job. I hadn’t gone back to work since the day Ben died, but maybe now it’s time.
A week later, it’s Thursday night. My routine consists of putting on my pajamas, brushing my teeth, and lying down on the couch to watch Vampire Diaries. Every Thursday Ben and I used to watch Vampire Diaries together. He told me he hated the show, but he always watched it with me. I used to think he secretly had a crush on Elena. We would pop popcorn, get my quilt and pillows out of the closet, and lay feet to feet on our giant sofa. I’ve continued the tradition, only without the popcorn since Ben was always the one who ate the whole bowl anyway.
Just as I settle on the sofa, with the quilt my mom and I made together, and turn on the TV, my cell phone rings. Aerie’s name flashes across the screen and I roll my eyes. “What!” I answer.
“I know, I know. Vampire Diaries! But listen, and do not say anything, and do not say no. I have you on the eleven o’clock flight tomorrow morning to McCarran International to conduct the initial photo style interview with River Wilde.”
“What? Are you crazy? No! No f**king way!” I tell her, shaking my head for emphasis even though I know she can’t see me.
Aerie ignores my outburst and tells me she has already arranged for me to meet the lead singer of The Wilde Ones at Sound Music’s corporate headquarters in Las Vegas tomorrow afternoon. She stresses, “The lead singer, you know, River Wilde,” in case I’m for some reason unclear as to who he is. Aerie tells me River is in Las Vegas for some kind of promotion and had a last minute change in his schedule. She has no one else to do it and his schedule change is only allowing a small window of time for the magazine to meet with him on Friday. Then she stresses, “And Dahlia girl, this is a huge opportunity for me and the magazine, please.”
Moving away from the dresser and looking around the room again, I asked myself, “What have I become?” But I already knew the answer. I’d become empty, almost completely void of emotion and I didn’t want to be like that anymore. I needed to let time back in this room. I knew I had to put that day away. I needed to become me again. With that thought, I reached down and grabbed my running shoes. I headed towards the door and smiled, but not before snatching my iPod. I would start my day with a run and listen to some music. I would run and clear my head. Then maybe when I came back I’d start what I knew I should have already started.
Chapter Five
EVERY STORM RUNS OUT OF RAIN
Every storm has a last raindrop
Just like the darkness turns to dawn
The pain of losing someone fades away
Every storm has a last raindrop
But the pain of lost love never really goes away.
November 2011 - Present Day
Fall is in the air. There is a cool breeze all around me blowing orange, yellow, and red leaves in circles. As I exit the park to head back to my house, I pass by a bunch of kids raking leaves into piles and then watch as they jump in, carefree, with no worries about what lies beneath. I wonder what I would feel if I were to jump into those leaves.
I have been running almost every day. Running makes me feel human again; it sets my mind free and allows me to forget everything. I ran five miles this morning and felt like I could have pushed myself another five, but I promised Aerie I would meet her for lunch. I have been meeting her for lunch at least twice a week and for dinner almost every Friday night.
Walking through the front door I notice the boxes, some labeled, some still empty, piled in the corners and know I should finish packing up his things. Maybe later. I’ve started sleeping in my room again. On the nights that I wake up thinking he is still here, I end up sleeping on the couch, but that is happening less and less these days and so are the nightmares of his fatal shooting.
After taking a shower in my bathroom, I go out to the garage. His car is parked next to mine, our surfboards are in the corner, and our water gear is piled on the shelves. He’s just everywhere but nowhere at all.
As I drive to the restaurant I notice familiar surroundings that remind me of him as I do every time I leave the neighborhood. He’s at the corner bus stop where he would drop off Mr. Langston, our elderly neighbor, every Wednesday morning. He’s at the drug store, where he would go whenever he ran out of something, always in a hurry. Reminders of him are everywhere.
As memories flood my mind and thoughts of what used to be cloud my vision, I finally understand what I have to do to get myself out of the pouring rain that I have been standing in for over a year. It is today, as I drive down my street, what used to be our street that I finally realize it is time for my own personal storm to end. No umbrella can stop me from getting wet while living in that house, what used to be our house. It’s like the thunder has finally stopped crackling in my head, and as the clouds begin to move away, tiny rays of sunshine start to filter in. I know I have to move out of the home we once shared.
Walking into the restaurant, I smile as I spot Aerie right away in her jet-black suit and hot-pink blouse, all buttoned up and put together. I glance down at myself in jeans, Converse sneakers, a Bon Jovi 1987 concert Tour t-shirt, and my leather jacket. I am already anticipating the concerned look she’s going to give me.
I sit at the white linen-clothed round table in the middle of the restaurant; she’s on her cell phone, no doubt shouting orders at someone. She hits the end button and places her phone on the table as she stands to greet me. As expected, she looks me up and down before hugging me like I’m made of glass and might break if she squeezes too tight.
“Still not eating,” are the first words out of her mouth before lifting a piece of my hair and wrinkling her nose. “Dahlia Girl, I’m taking you to see my hairdresser tomorrow, and I don’t want any lip from you. Your hair isn’t even blonde anymore.”
Glancing around the restaurant at all the people eating lunch, involved in their own conversations, I give her a mock smile. “So nice to see you too. How are you?”
I continue in a very high-pitched voice with, “Glad you could meet me for lunch.”
I resume my normal voice, rolling my eyes and admonishing, “Seriously, maybe you could start out with something like that Aerie before laying into me.” I try to keep a straight face but I can’t hold back the giggle that escapes my mouth, which sounds more like a snort.
I know she’s worried about me, but we have gone through this little exchange every time I meet her somewhere and really enough is enough. Last week she took me to get my nails done after having grabbed my hands and wincing at the dirt still stuck under my nails from gardening. In my defense, she called me last minute when I was weeding the flowerbed and I only had time for a quick shower. It’s not like I’m walking around dirty and unshowered for Christ sakes.
I decide to move on and tell her my decision.
“I had a revelation on the way over here.”
“Really? And what would that be?”
Attempting to restrain my voice as much as I could manage, while fighting back the tears, I say, “I’m going to sell the house.”
I see the concern written on her face as she responds, “Are you sure? I mean, are you sure you’re ready? This is kind of sudden. The last time Grace talked to you about the idea, you shut her down flat.”
I shift a little in my chair and take a sip of water. “Yeah, I’m sure. Everything about the house reminds me of Ben, and it’s not just the house, it’s the whole damn neighborhood. I need to do this. I know I do.” As I tell Aerie how I feel, as I finally start to open up to her for the first time in such a long time, I realize that I just said his name. I actually used his name. I said Ben. I said the name I must have said over a million times until almost two years ago, and I know my emptiness is starting to fill back up. I know I will always have him in my heart, but Ben will forever be in memories not in life. My whole body tenses and locks up at the realization, and my eyes rim with tears. I battle with my internal emotions to relax and will these drops not to spill over.
Aerie reaches across the table and gently wipes one of my cheeks where a few of the persistent tears flowed against my will. She takes a deep breath, and I see her eyes start to fill with tears as well, having realized that I said his name. “I think it’s a good idea Dahlia. I think you need to remove yourself from the things that prevent you from moving forward.”
I take my napkin and wipe my mouth for no reason. “I know I need to, I just don’t know if I can.”
The waiter approaches and takes our order. Once he leaves, Aerie looks directly at me with concern still etched on her face. “Yes you can, you are stronger than you think, and you have me, you have Grace, and Serena too. We will all help.”
Putting her napkin on her lap, she gives me a slight smile. “I think moving is the best decision you’ve made in a while.”
Her voice cracking a little as she adds, “And this is none of my business, but you know that has never stopped me before, so I’m just going to throw this out there for you.”
She pauses looking anywhere except at me and then continues. “I was thinking, why don’t you give his car to Trent?”
Her words come out fast and I can see the tears begin to well in her eyes. After all this time, Aerie still hasn’t been able to say his name to me, probably for fear I will break down.
The atmosphere in the open restaurant is causal, but I suddenly feel stifled as tears fill my own eyes now, and I’m sure I’m going to surprise the shit out of her with my next quick response.
“You know what, that’s a great idea. In fact I’ll call Serena and see if it’s okay. I have actually been thinking about that for awhile, since Trent turns sixteen next week.”
I take a piece of bread and rip off the crust. I dunk it in the olive oil in hopes that my eyes will stop stinging by the distraction.
“I think Ben would have wanted his nephew to have his car, he loved that car and he loved Trent. I know Trent misses Ben too, surfing with him, and driving to the beach with him. Trent always told Ben his car had so much power and gumption and loved to go anywhere with him.”
Shaking my head and laughing a little, I think about how happy this will make Trent. I’m also trying not to cry at the thought of Ben’s car not being parked next to mine, as I chew on the piece of bread that I feel I might choke on.
Aerie laughs a little too, but tears are rolling down her cheeks. “Power and gumption, those are two great words to describe him, not just his car.”
She picks up her napkin and dabs the tears off her cheeks. “God he did love that damn car.”
Her laughter fades as she reaches her hand across the table and sets it next to my plate, silently asking for mine.
“Dahlia, you know how much he loved you.”
She pauses a minute like she’s trying to decide if she should say something or not as she starts to pat my hand.
“And because of how much he loved you, you know he would want you to move on and live your life. I think he would be happy with your decision.”
Removing her hand from mine, she clears her throat. Smiling, and just barely laughing now, she adds, “I also know if he were here, he would have kicked your ass for not making that decision sooner.”
Aerie pauses again, raising her water glass and waits for me to do the same. Then she clinks her glass to mine. “To bright days ahead, Dahlia girl, I know they’re coming.”
And before either of us can cry, our food arrives.
We spend the rest of lunch just chatting about nothing, and I really enjoy the food and the company. As we finish, Aerie’s look becomes more serious and determined. “I need a favor,” she says, tilting her head to the side and smiling at me. “Tom quit yesterday, and I need you back at work, I’m really short staffed in the photo department at the magazine. Dahlia girl, please I need you.”
I sigh knowing I’m not ready to commit to anything full-time, and without thinking, I quickly answer, “I’d be happy to help you out until you get someone else.”
Aerie’s face contorts slightly as she says, “No, I mean come back to work full-time. Take Tom’s job. I need you.”
Crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair, I look at her. She’s a vision of beauty with her slightly wavy bright blonde hair, her perky little nose, and petite toned body. Underneath that beauty I know lurks a beast. I have a feeling I’m about to see that beastly side as I bring this conversation to an end.
“Aerie, come on, don’t ask me to make such a big decision. Don’t say you need a favor and then not like my answer, it’s not f**king fair.”
She knows I can never resist a request when someone asks with such need. I’m just a sucker like that—always have been. “I only just decided to sell the house. Let me get through that first and then we can talk about work, okay?” I look her straight in the eyes and add, “But I will help you on my terms. So, is working only on an as-needed basis okay for now?”
Surprisingly, Aerie’s irritation seems to smooth quickly. Sighing, she takes a sip of her water and just looks at me. As she pushes her plate aside, she smirks and says, “That’s called freelancing, and in my defense, I didn’t know you were going to come here and tell me you decided to sell your house. So I’m sorry. Okay?” She sticks her tongue out at me for good measure.
I take my napkin off my lap and smile as I roll my eyes at her. “Whatever. Do you want my help or not?” She just laughs and so do I.
Aerie started working at Sound Music right out of college while I went to grad school. She worked her way up the ladder quickly and now manages the main features department. Once I graduated I went to work for her as a photo stylist. My love is photography but my passion is music, so with my degree in place I was able to meld my love and passion together into what became a dream job. I hadn’t gone back to work since the day Ben died, but maybe now it’s time.
A week later, it’s Thursday night. My routine consists of putting on my pajamas, brushing my teeth, and lying down on the couch to watch Vampire Diaries. Every Thursday Ben and I used to watch Vampire Diaries together. He told me he hated the show, but he always watched it with me. I used to think he secretly had a crush on Elena. We would pop popcorn, get my quilt and pillows out of the closet, and lay feet to feet on our giant sofa. I’ve continued the tradition, only without the popcorn since Ben was always the one who ate the whole bowl anyway.
Just as I settle on the sofa, with the quilt my mom and I made together, and turn on the TV, my cell phone rings. Aerie’s name flashes across the screen and I roll my eyes. “What!” I answer.
“I know, I know. Vampire Diaries! But listen, and do not say anything, and do not say no. I have you on the eleven o’clock flight tomorrow morning to McCarran International to conduct the initial photo style interview with River Wilde.”
“What? Are you crazy? No! No f**king way!” I tell her, shaking my head for emphasis even though I know she can’t see me.
Aerie ignores my outburst and tells me she has already arranged for me to meet the lead singer of The Wilde Ones at Sound Music’s corporate headquarters in Las Vegas tomorrow afternoon. She stresses, “The lead singer, you know, River Wilde,” in case I’m for some reason unclear as to who he is. Aerie tells me River is in Las Vegas for some kind of promotion and had a last minute change in his schedule. She has no one else to do it and his schedule change is only allowing a small window of time for the magazine to meet with him on Friday. Then she stresses, “And Dahlia girl, this is a huge opportunity for me and the magazine, please.”
