Chapter 2

Four Years Later…

 

                I don’t care what people tell you. Your heart does not beat for someone else. It does not rapidly pulsate beneath your chest. It actually…stops. The blood will stop circulating and your heart just falls short, losing its rhythm. Falling in love is not as easy as you imagine it to be. If anything, love will destroy you and every idea, thought, or reason you ever grew to understand. If I close my eyes hard enough, I can feel my life with my fingertips. I can vividly remember the day the world returned her to me. But it wasn’t her, the Avira I had once known. I saw her sitting in the window at the café a few blocks down from my home. Four years had passed and a familiar feeling came over me. My insides locked in place. It was like the whole world was spinning around me, except for her. One thing for sure, Avira was going to be the death of me. But not in that depressing ‘I can’t go on without you’ type of death. It’s that pull in your chest where even your body is content with dying at this moment in time. The kind of dying designed to demonstrate the fact that you want to be alive.

                Avira’s hair was darker now; chocolate. It fell past her shoulders and slid against the middle of her back. Her olive tinted skin glistened in the sunlight peering through the glass. One hand was cradling a giant cup of steaming coffee, while the other was fiddling with her phone. It appeared that she was alone, so I managed to slip through the doors. Just as I was about to approach Avira, some guy hurried past me and abruptly sat across from her. I backed up slowly, trying not to appear like a creeper from afar. Quickly, I jumped into the line at the front and waited for my turn. Every so often, I would look over at her table. My heart sank when the realization hit me like ton of bricks. They were laughing. They were holding hands. They were happy. I turned my attention back to the menu above the counter and gave the server my order. After paying for it, I stepped away and leaned my back against the brick wall next to the pickup corner. She was wearing a long, summer dress with thin straps. I couldn’t help but admire the smoothness of her back. Apparently, I was completely oblivious of the server trying to get my attention.

“Sir? Excuse me?” She looked at the paper cup, “Grayson, here’s your coffee.”

I quickly turned towards her and gave her an apologetic look, “Oh, sorry. Thank you.”

                At this point, I was not ready to leave. I felt like if I left, I’d be leaving ‘her’ in some way. But I had no choice, so I took my coffee and began heading towards the door. Just as I was about to swing it open, my eyes sought out to her again. Who knew when I’d ever see her again? This time she was leaning across the table, kissing him like no one else was around. Seeing this actually helped me get through the damn door. I let the door go behind me and walked pass the window they were sitting next to. When I turned around, his back was facing me this time. I saw her smile at something he said. It was one of those smiles that could haunt you forever. And let me tell you, four years feels longer than forever. I never expected her to look past him and out the window. So I’m sure you can imagine my excitement when she recognized me. I gave her a small smile, as if saying ‘Hi, I’ve missed you’. But what I got back was nothing I ever anticipated. Avira quickly shifted her green eyes back to him and chose to ignore me. I saw her hand tremble as she lifted the coffee cup to her lips.

                Anger and despair began to intertwine, kicking the insides of my stomach. I sharply turned back around and focused on getting home. The walk felt like an infinity’s time span, but fell back into my skin while unlocking the door. I opened it, stepped inside, and leaned against the door as I shut it behind me. All I needed was a moment to collect my thoughts. I looked around the entrance of my home and saw pictures of my family. Memories of vacations and gatherings reminded me of how good I have it. I walked over to one picture in particular and leaned in for a better look. She was absolutely stunning that day and I don’t regret marrying her two years ago. In fact, Jade became someone I love. But that tightness in my chest, the one to tell me that I was truly in love, never surfaced.

 

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                Here’s the thing about pride. It comes in many forms and can be triggered unexpectedly. It’ll hit you like lightening on a tin roof; hard, frightening, and loud as hell. If you’ve ever experienced pride, I’m sure that you will understand where I’m coming from. Two years ago, I ran into Jade at a local movie theater. It was obvious that she was on a date. I, on the other hand, was alone. When I had returned home to North Carolina, my dignity and self-respect were at an all-time low. I had just spent a year and a half in Italy. Although it was the best time of my life, how it ended left me bruised and on a one way plane for…home. After that college party, Jade and I went our separate ways. She continued with her degree here and I left to be who I wanted to be.

                So I guess you can imagine the look on her face when she recognized me. Her date was buying their tickets as I walked up to get in line. Jade, looked softer somehow. She appeared more comfortable and content with the world around her. My mind immediately went back to the last time I saw her. Jade was no longer the girl I once dated in college. Her confidence and her smile were both truthful. I found that beyond intriguing. She whispered something in her date’s ear and excused herself. Jade’s knee-length summer dress was flowing in the breeze. Her hair was now shorter, touching her shoulders, and a lighter shade of brown. As she approached me, it was almost natural for Jade to wrap her arms around my neck. I, without hesitation, hugged her in return. She smelled like flowers as I inhaled.

Suddenly, I felt her breath on my right ear, “Save me. Let go, take my hand, and get me as far away from him as possible.”

                I looked over at the guy she was with. He was leaning against the entrance, tickets in hand. Someone he knew came up and they started talking. Just as his back turned towards me, I let go and grabbed her hand. We quickly ran down the sidewalk, turned a sharp corner, and dipped inside a 24 hour flower shop. Jade peeped around the wall and we both saw him turn around, scratching his head. She giggled with her face buried in my chest. I stepped back behind the wall and started laughing with her.

“He’s gone,” announced the front desk cashier. He was a middle-aged man with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Jade said aloud.

“Why were we running anyway? I asked.

With a serious look she responded, “He had something in his teeth.”

                A burst of laughter came from both me and the cashier. Jade grabbed my hand again, gave the man a small wave, and led me out the shop. We took a right out of the flower shop and continued down the sidewalk. Jade and I dated for three years in college, but this felt entirely different and new. It was almost like we were strangers. I have to admit, it was the greatest feeling I had felt in a long time.

“So, what have you been up to since graduation?” I, boldly, asked.

Jade smiled, “Way to skip over the other nonsense, Gray. Don’t worry, I have no intentions of bringing up the past. Life is too…peaceful for me, right now. I am the guidance counselor at Middleton High, just signed the lease to my new apartment yesterday, and as of a week ago, I started dating again.”

Her success story shook me a little, “So, you didn’t date anymore…after us?”

“Honestly, no. It’s not like you ruined me. In fact, you leaving encouraged me to focus on myself and what I want. Let’s face it. After that party, you were not the guy I knew. It’s like you woke up the next morning, decided to go to Italy, and left in two weeks! I admired that,” she spoke, honestly.

“Wow, I definitely didn’t expect that response! I was expecting a slap in the face, again,” I responded with a laugh.

She held my gaze before speaking, “How are you? What are you doing?”

I sighed, “Well, after Italy and graduation, I kind of lost my way. Which is ironic, considering I went there to find it. I’m living at home until I can find a place.”

“What are you doing for work?”

“Well, during my internship, I found my passion for art. Started with the basics, but focused mainly on painting. I sell my paintings now and have my own gallery in town.”

Jade’s jaw dropped, “Wait, that art gallery next to the coffee shop is yours?”

I laughed, “Yeah, have you been?”

“Not yet, but it’s on my To-Do List now! That’s impressive, Gray. I’m really happy for you, but what do you mean by ‘I kind of lost my way’?” she asked curiously.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to her without bringing up our past, “Avira.”

She looked away and stopped in front of an apartment building, “I see. Look, I don’t know what happened between you two over there. But have you considered that maybe you did find your way? Through art, I mean. Have some pride in your accomplishments, Gray! Not in what could have been.”

“Who are you, Jade? I swear, it’s like I don’t even know you,” I said, with an admiring smile.

Jade dug in her purse, pulled out her keys, and opened the glass door, “You don’t, Gray. In all honesty, you never ‘saw’ me. Yes, I’ve changed in some aspects. But I’m still ‘me’. You were too distracted to really look at me and I was too focused on you to look away.”

                I watched her smile, give a wave, and head inside the building. For a while, I stood there contemplating if what she said was true. Was I really that absent? Maybe too self-absorbed? Or was I too focused on being someone else rather than the person I once was?

 

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                I don’t think I ever really lost my passion for art. In fact, my love for oil pastels is evident when I have a blank canvas in front of me. With the right music and the secure feeling of being alone, these hands can create images embedded in my memory. For example, my highest sold painting was a silhouette of a woman leaning on a weeping willow. This may be easy to imagine and you may think it has no significance. So let me tell you what the colors do to a painting. It, if done correctly, can give the painting life. The weeping willow is in full bloom, the green leaves and brown branches reaching for the ground. A sun is setting in the far distance and she is watching it disappear in colors of purple, orange, red, blue, and pink. My favorite part of this painting is the warm color of her skin and the dark shadows that caressed her neck. Her long, golden locks were whisking in a gentle breeze.

                What people don’t realize about this painting is the story it tells. They don’t know where she is, what she was thinking, or why it is so significant for me to remember. Authors, professors, and other literary geniuses always tell aspiring writers to write what they know. I’m no writer, but by God, I can paint what I know. In that very moment, as I gazed at Avira from a distance, I knew that I could never love anyone as much as I love her. She had a way of mesmerizing me, simply by being the best version of herself. Avira was always true, in depth and in color; up close and far away. I honestly believe that is what I love most, her truth. We left for Italy on a whim and we backpacked our way through some of the greatest places on this earth. I didn’t care where we slept, what we ate, or where we were going to next. All that seemed to matter to me was being with her. I wanted to experience everything with Avira. But like most realistic romance stories, Avira was purely there for an adventure in Italy. I, on the other hand, made her my adventure.

                Some may believe that you never know what you have until it’s gone. My question is: What do you do if you lose something that was never really yours? I’m not just referring to Avira because I lost more than her. I lost my sense of adventure, my motivation for greatness, my overall confidence, and, lastly, my eagerness to love. I know what you’re thinking: What does any of this have to do with my art? Well, for that time we spent in Italy, she was my art. She triggered every emotion, every thought I ever expressed. Avira didn’t just light a fire within me, she kept it burning. But on our last day and in our last moment together, I felt each tear in my heart piece by piece. It was almost as if her boots on the cold, hard floor of the airport sent vibrations through my veins. Each step she took away from me echoed within the walls. I watched her, through tear-filled eyes, as she went through the security check. It wasn’t until after she grabbed her backpack and boots when it hit me. Avira never really…loved me.

                Sure, she spoke the words and returned my affections. We shared many things, but somewhere in the midst of sharing, Avira only gave me enough to keep me holding on. So yes, I love art and I do my absolute best to keep at it. Art is the last and smallest piece I have left of her. I’ll be damned if she takes that with her too. In fact, come to think of it, I don’t have anything of hers. Not even a photo tucked somewhere in my closet or a pile of movie ticket stubs. I literally have…nothing, just the memories. How convenient, right? Avira took everything I gave her and left me with my art.

                So I paint what I know. Avira turned around to face me, while still leaning against the weeping willow. Her eyes were red and glossy. I rushed to her and asked what was wrong.

“It’s time for me to go, Gray,” she muffled beneath her sobs.

“What? I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?” I asked, with a tremble in my voice.

Avira sighed, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just…can’t do this anymore”.

Now my hands were trembling, “So, you’re leaving?”

Her eyes met mine, “Yes. In the morning.”

                And she did leave the next morning. I watched her put her boots back on. Avira stood up, adjusted her backpack, and for a few seconds, she simply stood in place. A part of me thought she was going to turn around, run to me, fall in my arms, and say she had made a mistake. But to my dismay, Avira slightly turned her head in my direction, turned forward, and then walked towards her gate.