Insipid (38 page)

Chris’ love molded me when I was a young girl. It made me strong and determined as a young woman and hopeful about the power of love when I was a mother with a child. I was blessed by the role that he played in my life. I don’t know how to let go of that.

If Lucas hadn’t busted into my life like a hurricane and swept me up at that particular time, I have no doubt whatsoever that I would still be his. The storm that inflicted chaos in my home carried me to a foreign place; adapting to my new environment will determine the next phase of this, my new life.

I NEVER STOPPED
believing in signs.

Almost two months after I last saw him, I’m curled up in bed reading Olivia’s latest book recommendation, a page turner that I couldn’t put down despite the fact that it’s two o’clock in the morning and I have a full day of meetings ahead of me. My eyelids are heavy. I’m tired and about to shut my Kindle off when I see a fluttering object right in front of me. I stare at it dazedly for a few seconds until I realize that it’s a moth. This time it isn’t flying in the direction of a light. It circles around and around my head, lightly brushing against my hair until it rests on the pillow next to me. As I lean my head for a closer look, I drop my Kindle through the tiny space between the headboard and the wall.

“Shoot!” I say out loud. I’m tired and irritated but know that I need to recharge my e-reader before I turn in for the night. I wedge my arm into the tiny space behind the bed and feel around with my fingers, refusing to remove my gaze from the moth that’s still resting peacefully on the pillow. My fingers touch something hard and cold. I retrieve whatever it is and pull my arm back in to take a look at my new find. It’s a phone. Lucas’ phone. It must have fallen off the bed or night table during one of his nights here. It’s dead of course, so I trudge over to the charger on the wall, sit on the floor and plug it in. It comes to life right with the Camera Roll opened up to hundreds of pictures of us—our tour in Palma de Mallorca, our days at the beach, the sun, the surf, the picnics on the sand, the colorful sails highlighted against the bright blue sky. But what makes me cry—what makes me catch my breath and clutch at my heart—are the numerous pictures of me when we were in Chicago together. There are pictures of me taken while I was asleep the night he stayed over, pictures of me on the dance floor when I lost him for a few minutes, pictures of me at the very first lunch we had at the Italian restaurant, walking slowly across the bridge in four inch heels, telling him animated stories about the river. There is one of me hailing a cab the Saturday of the signing and one of me sitting by the steps staring out towards the river with a cigarette in my left hand.

The week that meant so much to me apparently meant something to him too.

“Cia!” I shout as I drop the phone to my side and frantically search for the moth that was just right next to me a few minutes ago. It has vanished. But in its place is the heart that I thought was gone forever. Tonight changes everything. Tonight, more than anything else, Cia has reminded me of something that I knew all along.

I sit in the dark for a long time and let go of all the tears that have been bottled up inside me for so long.

I cry about the day I lost Chris to a pretty blonde in denim shorts.

I ache with the pain that I caused him.

I lament at the love that I never had for Joshua.

I wail as I mourn the loss of my daughter.

I don’t hold back. I grieve and I fret until all my tears have been released and I can no longer hear the sounds of my anguish.
This is the dead end of my past. Now to walk around the breakwall, close my eyes and free fall into the future.

“Hello?” she croaks into the phone, breathy and heavy with sleep.

“Sorry, Ley. It’s me.”

“Jade? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Isn’t it 2:00 am there?”

“Ley, do you know where he is? I need to call him. I love him, Ley. I love him. I have to tell him that I love him.”

She perks up immediately and shrieks, “This is great! Call him. I don’t know where he is and I don’t care what time it is. Somewhere in the world, it’s morning. Call him, Jade.” She follows up with an afterthought. “And then call me immediately afterwards to give me the full scoop!”

I dial his number as soon as I hang up the phone with her. It rings a few times but he doesn’t pick up. My heart hurts with extreme disappointment but this time, I decide to leave a message. “Luke, you were right. I love you. I think I loved you from the first time I met you. Whatever the reasons, whatever the circumstances, you were the one that my heart chose to help me pick up the pieces of my broken soul. All this time I was afraid that I translated my loneliness into my need to be with you. It doesn’t matter why it happened or how it happened. I’m just sorry I wasted so much time before admitting it to myself and to you. So I’m glad that I get to leave you this message so you can play it over and over again, in case you don’t believe me.” I laugh nervously before rambling on. “I love you, Luke. Thank you for lifting me up out of the depths of sadness and bringing some light into my life. I would never ever trade a single minute of the time we spent with each other, whether together or apart, for anything in the world. I will always be thankful for this rollercoaster of emotions that you put me through. It made me feel and it made me think, but most of all, it made me feel alive. I love you.”

“BLESS ME, FATHER
, for I have sinned. It’s been three years since my last confession. My biggest sin is the sin of omission. Of pretense. Of tolerating an insipid existence filled with hopelessness and grief. I was unfaithful in mind, in thought, and in heart. For these and for all my sins, I am truly sorry.”

“Jade?” he asks, despite knowing full well that it’s me kneeling down at his confessional.

“Yes, Father. It’s me.”

“I didn’t know you were in town.”

“I’m here to finally close up the house. We sold it last week and I came to sift through what’s left of Cia’s things. I leave this afternoon for home. I won’t be back here for a long time, until I see you at the memorial.”

“Are you okay? How is everything going?”

“I followed your advice, Father. I gave up the past. I’m now living in the present. I’m asking for God’s forgiveness so I can move on.”

“You have it, Jade. God’s amazing grace has always been with you. I’m so glad that you finally reached out a hand to Him. You must trust and believe that you were never alone. Know that from this day forward, your sins are forgiven. For your penance, I would like you to step into your new life without looking back. Can you do that from now on?”

“Yes, Father, I promise,” I whisper softly.

“All right then, bow your head and pray for God’s blessing.”

I lean my head forward as he raises his hands up to bless me.

“I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Go in God’s peace, Jade. You deserve to be happy.”

TODAY MARKS THE
third anniversary of the day I died. The setting sun skates across the water surrounded by the orange sky streaked with alternating layers of blue and white and yellow. The water is still and calm with only tiny rolls of waves washing upon the shore. If I looked far enough, I can see her standing at the end of the universe. I can feel her presence close by. I can hear her sweet singing voice next to me. How many times have I imagined what it would be like if I saw her again? Soon, now. Soon.

I walk sideways along the shore where the water meets the sand, farther and farther from any sign of life. Away from judgment, from condemnation. From things that remind me of the mess I’ve made. My hands are full, my steps are heavy. But my heart… it’s open. It’s free. I’ve done what I could to apologize for all the hurt I’ve caused them. I’ve said the words to tell him just how much I love him. Without me, I know they will all be forced to move on.

I stop in the middle of nowhere, ready to finish what I came here to do. In my left hand is one single flower. A calla lily. Simple and understated, but meaningful. In my right hand is a little box with breathing holes and a chirping sound emanating from it.

Let me sit down for a while
, I say to myself. Collect my thoughts. Remember why I’m here. I sit for what feels like hours, but in the scheme of things, I know that it’s only for a minute. Slowly, I open the box with the bird in it. The swallow, so tiny, but whose wings are strong and powerful, cowers along the edge of the box, shaking and afraid. I take a deep breath and touch its head with my little finger. Is that what a feather feels like? I’m shaking. I’m sick. I don’t think I can do it. How can something so small scare me so much? How can something as docile, as insignificant as a bird, cause me to change my path every time I come across it? Another deep breath as I lift it gently, my fingers lightly enclosing it before I place it on the palm of my hand. Its scraggy little feet feel like pin pricks on my skin.

There. That wasn’t so bad now, was it?

I laugh out loud as I raise my arm up in the air, tossing the bird up high, watching it fly far away from me.
Ha! Take that!

The tide creeps up. The tiny box washes away as I stand up to complete my journey.

The water is dark. My feet feel cold. With the flower clasped in my hand, I move forward. Slowly, surely. I step upon the sand until I can no longer see my feet.

I flinch and jump up in surprise. Something rubs against my legs. Seaweed wraps around my toes. I close my eyes and keep moving. My last fear. Fear of the bottomless unknown that is part of every life. This will be over soon.

Beyond my comfort zone and into the ocean I go. Deeper and deeper until the tide pushes me forward and my feet can no longer anchor themselves on the sand.

I close my eyes and pray. I pray for forgiveness, but most of all I pray for those who will be left behind.

As the tide carries me further away, I delight in the numbness that the cold brings to my skin. The muffled sound of the water in my ear. The overwhelming, heartfelt feeling of closure.

Floating, floating, floating away filled with so much peace.

The fact that I’m moving away from the security of the shore doesn’t bother me. I bask in the quiet solitude for a few minutes. I hear it in the distance, a sudden roar that starts from its depths and pushes itself outward towards the sky. I’m not afraid. I’m excited to feel the rush of a huge wave conceal me from the world, leading me to wherever, making me feel helpless enough to accept whatever it is that may come next. I feel an overbearing excitement as I lose control.

Trust in Him. Trust in signs. Trust in your fate. Live your life in honesty. Let your heart choose whom to love; you’ll never go wrong that way. Live life to the fullest and know that those who leave this world ahead of you are watching over you always.

As the wave washes upon me, I am pulled down towards the bottom of the ocean in a powerful undertow. Still I have no fear because I know that he’s right here with me.

And he is.

I hold my breath and allow a few seconds to pass before I flap my arms furiously in an attempt to resurface above the water.