I knew why I was here though. It wasn’t to talk about missing her, or to talk about how her dad was a dick. She knew all that. I was here because I felt like I needed to make a confession. And I’d feel better once I got it out. Please let me feel better. “Penny set me up on a dating app.”
Silence.
I looked toward the spot where I was pretty sure I’d buried her engagement ring. “I wanted a family with you. It’s all I wanted. I don’t want that with anyone else.” I took a deep breath. “I promise, Brooklyn. I promised you then and I’ll make good on it now.”
I wasn’t sure how many times I’d come here, trying to feel better about the shitty life I was leading. But this was different. One-night stands and random hookups were meaningless. It’s why I did them. Because it wasn’t a betrayal. But the dating app made me feel guilty. Even though I knew I wasn’t taking it seriously.
“I promise,” I said again. “But…I think maybe, a little part of me still wants all that stupid stuff. A family. A home. And I’m sorry that I want it. I’m so fucking sorry.” I didn’t have to say anything else. We both knew I wouldn’t act on those feelings. We both knew I could never move on. I’d never do that to her. I couldn’t.
“It just hurts more in the fall,” I said into the silence. “You get it. You get what it feels like to have no one.”
I looked over to her uncle’s gravestone. I knew how terribly alone she’d felt after his death. She never deserved to go through so much pain. She never deserved to die feeling like she had no one by her side. No one deserved that. “I’m sorry.”
I always came here when I missed her the most. When I felt like I had other things to apologize for. But it always came back to that one moment. Of letting her down right before she passed away. Of letting her feel like she was alone. “You weren’t alone. You always had me.”
All I wanted to do was lie down and close my eyes. I’d done that a lot the first few months after she’d passed too. I’d slept right here. To make sure she knew she wasn’t alone. I shifted so that I could lie down on top of the grass. I just needed her to know that I was here.
“It’s hard this time of year, Brooklyn. And I always wonder what we would have been doing if you were here.” I swallowed hard and looked up at the starless sky. I didn’t have enough memories of her to fill 16 years of missing her. So I just replayed all of them. Even the ones that hurt like hell. Especially the ones that hurt like hell.
“It feels like you’re disappearing on me. And I don’t know how to live without you.”
I didn’t want to. I couldn’t. “I don’t know why I asked what we’d be doing if you were here. I know what we’d be doing. We’d have a family. We’d be happy in our home. We’d have each other. That’s all I ever wanted.”
I felt tears trickle down the corners of my eyes and into my hairline. “I don’t want to do this without you anymore. I feel guilty all the time. I feel like fucking shit every day, Brooklyn.”
I was tired. I’d been so fucking tired for years. I just needed something. A sign to keep going. Anything. Because I couldn’t do this anymore.
I heard the sound of leaves crunching. I tried to mind my own business. There were more people buried here than just Brooklyn. More mourners than just me. But I kept my mouth closed, because I was pretty sure I was the only crazy one that talked to the dead.
Another crunch. And another. Getting closer and closer. It was like whoever was walking through the cemetery was coming toward me. Or rather, toward Brooklyn’s grave.
The first person that popped into my mind was Kennedy. Brooklyn’s best friend. I sat up and turned toward the sound, but could barely make out the person in the darkness. They kept walking closer and closer.
I hadn’t spoken to Kennedy in years. Not since senior year of high school, actually. We’d gone to different colleges and lost touch. It was hard to keep up a friendship when all we really had