Almost Holding Hands

Chapter 13

"Let us bow our heads in a moment of silence." said the man, bowing his head in example.

I bowed my head, but I didn't close my eyes. If I did, a shower of tears would come. Instead I tried to focus on something, anything. My eyes caught a small yellow dot. Two butter cups, one right next to another. Ironic isn't it? I was thinking of the memory I had of Dylan and the butter cups. Maybe it's a sign that he's here, watching me. Or maybe it's a random happenstance. After all, butter cups grew everywhere. Either way they still reminded me of him.

I bent down and plucked them. The director spoke, announcing that it was over, everyone could leave. I wouldn't. Neither would Derek. We'd stay until it was all over. All of it. Everyone started to clear out. Slowly but surely. I walked up to Dylans casket and placed one of the butter cups on top.

"Love is the yellow flower on your coffin door." I whispered, finally letting the sea of silent tears flow. I placed the other buttercup in my pocket, I'd press it.

I walked back to Derek, who had watched me. "I...I need to say a few words." He choked out as he slowly paced over.

Of course I'd stand here and wait. I watched him as he spoke, though I couldn't hear him. His body language said it all though. The way his shoulders shook, his sunken face. The way he shook his head and ran his hands through his hair. I can't remember seeing anyone who looked more broken than Derek did right now. He placed a letter under my flower. 

I walked over. He wasn't saying anything no, just silently sobbing. I grabbed his hand, noticing the name Dylan written on the cream note. The ink had bled though, the cause of Dereks tears mixing in. I hugged Derek, there was nothing else to do. We stood for a while, I don't even know how long it was.

Finally we pulled apart, and in knowing agreement we went to sit on the bench, under a weeping willow. We both watched in silent horror as Dylan was burried. This was it. No more seeing Dylan. No more hearing his voice. No more feeling his warmth next to me. These weren't statements nor were they questions. They were mingled together, like black and white which has turned to gray.

"Hey..." it was Derek, "It's going to be ok. We can make it. Dylan wouldn't want us to be sad like this." His voice cracked but I could tell he was trying to be strong for both of us, he was trying hard.

"And what would he want us to do then, Derek?" It came out in an angry sorrowful tone. More so than I had intended.

"He..." He turned to look at me, hands still clasped. "He'd want us to live for him."

That's what they all said in the books. "Live for the two of us now." I always thought it was cheesy and cliche. But now I realized that's what he really would have wanted. I finally understood what it meant, what it truly meant, to bear the weight of living for two people.

Part of me wanted to give in, to break down. Just forget everything and go cry forever. The other part of me wanted to make the absolute most out of life, right then and there. Live life to the fullest, all in Dylans name. Live for two, and be strong for Derek. We were eachothers foundation now, if one broke, the other would crumble.

The question was, which part would win?