Page 124 of Again, In Autumn

Voices sing quietly along with him.

“Oh, why’d you leave me? Why’d you stay? Why’d you promise? Why’d I pray?”

My cold nose begins to itch. Emotion starts to clog my throat. It’s hard to keep my chest from heaving too noticeably.

“I would have, oh I did. We could have, but you said: it’s hard, too hard, we’re far too young, forever is a long road, what should I have done? Oh, should…you should have done.”

I’m the only one who could know the meaning behind these words. It reminds me of a secret.

The secret of Adam and I, all those years ago.

He croons,“I’m grown now, far too smart, to care for empty spaces in my heart, that stop for the mountains, that cool clear lake, and the quiet sounds the haunted forest makes.”

He couldn’t possibly still love me after all of this time. Could he?

Could I still be in love with him?

I look away as tears begin to form. My chest physically hurts. I listen to his guitar playing quicken, the chanting of the audience picking up, the energy growing.

He sings, “Pain is a side effect of life, not choices, you’ll never get to feel the freedom of joy without poison, everything hurts ‘til for a second it doesn’t, nothing is perfect, no ride unchecked.

“I swear I hear you in my soul, I walked away but I’m still not whole, I take the burden of this toll that you’re allowed to exist and I’m not there. I’m not there to feel it. To get it back. To see you one more time…”

I push off the blanket and stand up, blacking out everyone around me and the sounds they make. Tears stream down my face. I cover my mouth, palm the wetness of my eyes. Adam’s voice hauntingly hangs in my ear.

“I would have, oh I did. We could have, but you said, It’s hard, too hard, we’re far too young, forever is a long road, what should I have done? Oh, should…you should have done.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Through the quiet, empty lobby, I hurry upstairs to my room. I sit on the bathroom floor and cry.

I’m crying for the boy I hurt and the girl I could have been and the future that never existed. The music wafts in from outside my balcony window, unable to be blocked out. For an unknown length of time, I listen to cheers and different melodies, wondering what these other songs sound like, what they’re about, and if I’ll ever have the strength to listen to them.

I finally wash my face. I put on my pajamas.

Adam cared about me leaving, more than just for a week or two. He wrote songs about it. He must have told his friends about it. And even if he dabbled in drunk bachelorette girls, some part of him always loved me, I heard that in his lyrics. I felt it in the deeply passionate way he sang. Truthfully, I felt it in the little ways he touched me today.

I take the soft robe from the closet, turn off all the lights, and wrap up in it.

Now that the question of if has been wiped from the table, and we can also strike a line through how long. All that’s left to wonder is: what’s next?

I open the balcony doors and sit on the wicker loveseat. Solar-powered candles glow inside glass lanterns, giving off the romantic ambiance that someone staying in “the red room” might want. I’m too busy sitting in the cold, my face numb from crying, to need decoration to prompt feeling. I think of all the things I might say to him.

I feel happier being with you these last few days than I have in years.

I’m terrified that we won’t be able to function in a real-world relationship.

I’m afraid I’m too cynical.

The room door opens and then locks shut. Adam calls out into the dark, “Vienna?”

“Here,” I answer with a shaky voice.

He comes outside, arms wide, curious about why and where I’m sitting. He says, “It’s freezing. How long have you been out here?”

I wipe my nose with my sleeve. “I think quite a while.”

“What’s going on?” He sits beside me.

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