Page 37 of Perfect Tragedy
“Yes, of course.”
“I’m sure you’ll miss him, but what a great thing he’s doing.”
“It definitely is,” I smile, “Oh, excuse me, I’m going to go grab another dessert from the kitchen.”
I use that as an excuse to escape into the house. Seeing a pan of Rice Krispies on the counter, I cut myself a piece and munch in happiness while I avoid everyone.
“Rude,” Vanessa says making me jump guiltily.
“God, you scared me! What’s rude?”
“Cut me one too,” she says holding her hands out and wiggling her fingers.
“I thought you had left already,” I cut her a piece and hand it to her.
“Mom got sidelined by a friend on our way to the car. I saw you come in here and followed.”
“I just needed to escape all the questions.”
“I get it.”
Taking the pan, I sit at the kitchen table and wordlessly cut us another chunk. We munch in silence.
“It will be okay, you know,” Vanessa says quietly.
“I know. It will. Besides, I have you.”
“Yeah you do, lucky bitch.”
Laughing out loud feels good. She smiles at me but it falls immediately when we hear her mom yell her name.
“Gotta go!” She jumps up from the table and runs out the door, suddenly stopping and turns around. “I’m lucky to have you too, you know.” Before I can say a word, she disappears.
Heading back outside, I bring the marshmallow treats with me and place them on the table telling myself I don’t need another one.
Laughter captures my attention and I look at one of the many tables to see Blake and Jack surrounded by their friends. I can’t hear what Jack’s saying from here, but he’s gesturing wildly in his typical animated fashion and has the attention of everyone around him. I smile at his antics, laughing despite myself. That’s the way he’s always been - the life of the party - with Blake right along side him.
Suddenly, my heart sinks and the smile falls off my face. The happiness around me suddenly feels suffocating. Part of me wants to scream because I feel like they’ve forgotten me and moved on already, which makes no sense. My whole world feels like it’s spinning out of control. The days since Blake and Jack told me their news have flown by and while I’ve tried to do my best to see it in a positive light and deal with my selfish emotions, waves of sadness still overwhelm me and I struggle - hard.
It’s simple - I’m sad.
Part of me feels ridiculous that this is so hard for me. I want to - need to - get over it already.
During Jack and Blake’s graduation yesterday, I was so proud watching them take the stage. I laughed with everyone when Jack of course did a stupid celebration dance upon getting his diploma and felt such delight as I watched Blake receive his. The huge grins on their faces were so genuine and the back slapping hug they gave each other was infectious.
Later, as they stood and smiled for photos at the insistence of my mother, they had their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. A flash back of them hit me all at once. They were eleven, and had just won their first football game of the season. They had their helmets in their hands, were sweaty and filthy, and happy as can be after successfully sacking their opponents.
My mind quickly remembered them at thirteen, and the surprise invoked when they announced their intent to give soccer a try. They were standing together, giving the camera a thumbs up after Blake had scored three goals during the game, Jack two. I then recalled when they were sixteen, standing side by side next to Jack’s new car, one he had bought off a used lot with money saved over the years from allowance and odd jobs, and with the help of our parents. Another picture for the album mom kept sacred like a religion. At each and every milestone I was there. Maybe not in the photo, but I was part of it, part of the moment. Through good times and bad – they were inseparable – and I was always included.
Watching then now, Blake walks up to Jack and stands next to him, showing him something on his phone. Seeing them side by side again, like always, it suddenly hits me hard that they will have many more moments together but I won’t be a part.
It’s not logical to feel this way.
Who knows what’s going to happen when they go to boot camp - if they’ll stay together after, where they’ll end up - but it’s still something they’re doing together, another of life’s landmarks they will pursue together.
But without me.
Reality once again sinks in and I feel an ache so deep inside my chest it feels like a huge chasm is going to swallow me whole.
