Love
What Does y Mean?
Wordlessly, I spread the flowers over the dirt and bent my head down. A few sharp stones dug into my knees. The headstone seemed weathered and worn, despite my efforts to clean it. The boy stood a few feet behind me and I could hear him shuffling his feet.
“I miss you,” I said, tucking my legs in. “I wish you could drink my coffee and smile. I can actually make decent coffee now.” The wind whistled through the trees, and I pretended it was my mother’s voice.
“Dad misses you too. He works all day and loses sleep at night trying to raise me.” My throat tightened, and I coughed. The boy settled down beside me and tenderly pulled me closer to him. I leaned against him and closed my eyes.
“Let’s pretend for a while,” he said. “Let’s pretend we’re happy.” All I could hear was the beating of his heart, its pace slow and steady, unlike the uneven jumps mine was making.
“That cloud looks like a strawberry,” he said, his voice sounding distant. He continued to talk, but I soon fell into a haze of mumbled words and twittering birds.
“I want to ask you something,” I mumbled suddenly, the blonde boy’s words sticking out in my mind. “Do you love me?” The boy sat up and my head fell into his lap. Startled out of my stupor, I was finally hit by the impact of my words.
“Sorry,” I stuttered. “You don’t have to answer that. Just forget I said anything.”
“What is love?” he asked, ignoring my mumbling.
“Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit.” The quote was a favorite of mine, and I was slightly embarrassed by its romantic nature.
“Is it really what you think it is?” he asked seriously. I nodded.
“I think,” he said, drawing out the words, “I’m learning to love you.” There was something in his simple sentence that rang out loudly in the silence of the clearing. For a moment, everything seemed to pause and reflect.
“Thank you for teaching me how to love,” he whispered, as he lifted me into his arms. The throbbing in my ankle was replaced by a pain in my throat.
“After I’m gone,” I said, “will you still love me?” I was referring to my flight back home, but he didn’t seem to take it that way.
“I will,” he promised, grasping my hand in his. “Today, tomorrow, and every day afterwards as well.”
It was a bittersweet moment when he promised forever to me in a forest of death.
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