Ocean Eyes

     'Hi Lucky...it's been a whole year since you been gone, and I am still hurting everywhere. You left a hole that seems unending. I know you're frowning at me for still grieving and "texting" you, but it's how I cope. Today, I spoke with your dad in jail for the first time since the accident. He looked so torn up Lucky, like the soul had been sucked out of him, which it kind of was. He still blames himself, even though no one else except the justice system does. He has three more months until he goes on parole, but he told me he wrote so many letters to you that he wants to read to you personally whenever he gets out. Damn Lucky! This is supposed to get easier...why does it hurt so much still?! You were the one who was supposed to have a legacy. Remember? You had your own charity planned out even though you were trying to start a business while studying to be a lawyer. All the while being the leader on the debate team and captain of the softball team. After a fruitful life in college and a successful start to the rest of your life, you were supposed to spend your downtime with me. Remember? We said that after you got out of law school, we were going to start a family. Adopt two little boys and one little girl. We would have a house out in the country that had two stories and a basement for your work. We agreed not to get married because we didn't need the label; we just needed each other. You were going to be the breadwinner and disciplinarian while I was the fun one that took everyone out for treats even though you said no. You would get mad at me, but I would win you over with a foot rub and a massage. That was my specialty since I had the degree for it. You never ridiculed me over being a massage therapist with an affinity for aromatherapy. You always said when we moved in, the house would never smell bad and that is why you kept me around. Do you remember when my parents kicked me out of the house, and you found me on the street outside of your favorite café? I'll never forget that day. Not just because it was the day I was disowned, but because it was the day you said, "I love you, Sage". After I was found, you ushered me inside your house and told me to explain everything. Being my best friend, I had no secrets. You were the only one who I allowed myself to be weak in front of. I remember my heart breaking all over again as I recounted the story and how the tears fell slowly and surely onto your lap where my head lay. All you did was hum comfortingly and stroke my hair. You never commented on how my parents were assholes or how I deserved so much better, and I don't think I told you how grateful I was in that moment. I didn't want to hear that, and anyone else would've done that exact thing. After I was done telling you what happened, in the most Lucky-way possible, you said, "Move in with me. Give me the future I crave, and I can give you all of me. I love you, Sage." You weren't the greatest with your words if you weren't arguing, but I could feel every emotion and feeling you hid behind that statement. I remember looking up at you in shock because you never hinted at anything else other than a platonic friendship. You smiled that crooked smile you always wore around me while gazing at the ceiling, absently stroking my hair. To anyone else, you looked so composed and confident, but I knew better. The slight twitch of your lips and your trembling hands gave way to your nervousness. From that day on, we weren't Lucky and Sage, the best friends, anymore. We were Lucky and Sage, the kindred lovers. Our relationship was our own, and you loved in your own way as I did mine. Everyone questioned us, but we never let it get to us. Of course, we weren't perfect. We argued almost every week, but we never let the sun set on an argument. Your dad knew about us before we knew about us and embraced our relationship with open arms. They didn't care I was Sage and you were Lucky. For the years that followed, I was always in your shadow as you outshined everyone around you, but I never minded. I wasn't one for the spotlight, like you know. The first time we joined together in coitus will be forever imprinted in my mind. We had just come back from winning the softball game against our rival college. As soon as we crossed the threshold to our studio apartment, you attacked with your lips. We fell in the entrance but couldn't give a damn. The high from the night rushed over our flaming bodies as we felt each other's familiar bodies. I remember you breathing heavy in my ear as if you wanted to control yourself, and I remember not wanting that. So, for the first time, I took the initiative. Your perplexed yet astonished face will be one of my favorite faces ever. You couldn't believe the moves I were making that night, but soon you reciprocated. Everything became a furious inferno; our freezer-like apartment could do nothing to chill our heated bodies. That night, I don't remember sleeping. Our passion was too intense; the build-up could not be satiated. We went from the floor to the wall to the couch to the bedroom. I don't think there wasn't a place we didn't touch. I remember feeling a vigorous love for you that night and felt as high as when we smoked weed that one time. That was the night we planned the rest of our lives together. That was the night we decided to be as untraditional as possible. A couple of weeks later, I passed my massage therapy exam and became your personal masseuse. You were my best friend, lover, client, and most of all, my soul mate. You were my everything. I used to call you Ocean Eyes because of your deep blues, remember? And you used to call me Diamond because I was your diamond in the rough. We were so stupid yet so right. All the pranks, ice cream wars, and tears spilled over anime characters meant everything to me. Your pain became my pain, your joy became mine, and vice versa. I thought you was going to be my infinity—my present, future, and after death. I never imagined losing you. They took you away from me, and for that, I will never forgive them. You, your dad, and I took a trip to Orange Beach, Alabama. It was the vacation before school started up again for you. It was about to be your last year of law school, and our lives were about to rocket to new heights. Yet they took that away from us. As always you looked astonishing in your swimwear; I couldn't believe you were mine. My klutzy, astronomical Lucky. I knew I wasn't the only one to notice your splendor, and that's exactly why they killed you. They wanted you for themselves and tried to snatch you away from me as I was holding your hand. You don't scream Lucky, but that night, you screamed. For me. As you were being dragged away from me, I was helpless. My light was leaving. I tried clawing for you, anything to get you back to me. You tried too, Ocean Eyes, and I couldn't be more proud of you for it. But there is only so much a human can do against a gun. I was frozen in the sand as they yelled for me to still or they would shoot your pretty head. Your dad was retrieving ice cream for us, and when he rounded the corner and saw you being taken, he rushed into action...but he didn't see the gun. He yelled for them to let you go, to let his Precious go. Your dad is a big man, Lucky, so they thought they stood no chance. At that moment, the universe went into slow motion. You gazed at me with your beautiful, beautiful deep blues, smiled that crooked smile one last time, and whispered a small "I love you, Sage" that I heard over the deafening beats of my heart. Ocean Eyes, you usually look good in everything; you don't look good with a hole in your pretty skull. I saw the moment your eyes went lifeless, crooked smile still in place. I saw your body hit the sand with a silent thud as they dropped you and the gun carelessly. Your eyes glimmered like stars with unshed tears, but you refused to cry in your last moments. I was a statue of unmoving muscle with your eyes gazing at me. Soon the sound came back to my ears, and all I could hear was an agonizing wail. It took me a moment to realize it came from my own mouth. Your sweet blood and beautiful brain was splattered over the sand in a work of abstract art. Your dad landed ungraciously next to you and held your seeping body close to his. I've never seen your dad shed so many tears or heard such a guttural cry that sounded like it came from the soul. This picture is ingrained in my brain. I see it during the day, at night, in my dreams, anywhere. There is no solace from it. My future was taken from me in less than two minutes. My heart broke into a billion shattered pieces at the sound of the gunshot, but those were crushed into dust as soon as the police came and took your dad away. He must've picked up the gun at some point while I was gazing at your corpse in his arms. I was his only witness, seeing as we were all alone on the beach when you left this earth. But I couldn't even testify for I wouldn't communicate with anyone. Not your dad, the police, or the shrink they assigned me soon after. Your dad took a plea deal and got a deal of a year jail time and five years on parole. He was supposed to get out early, but he acted out and got some more time added. I'm unclear on the details, but I'm sure he will tell you. The murderer was never caught, and I'm sure he is still alive out there, living while your eight feet under. Your dad left me in charge of your funeral, and I'll admit: it was a beautiful service. The whole time, I was waiting for you to pop out the casket as some sick prank. But you never did. You stayed comatose. Over the past year, I've been texting you every day, updating you or wishing for you to come back. I finally talked to my therapist about it, and she said it was time to let you go...and I agree with her. So, this will be my last text to you. You'll always be my forever and always. You'll always be my kindred spirit. You'll always be my soul mate. I'll never forget you for as long as I live, which I hope is a while. I'm going to keep your legacy alive. The Ocean Eyes and Diamond charity will live on in your name and give aid to kids on the street with no one else to turn to as well as giving them a home. Everyone will know Lucky Violet and what she stood for. Also, I know we agreed to not get married and keep our own last names, but I changed mine to Violet as well. This way, the two little boys and little girl I adopt will have your last name. They will know who you are too, for you are their parent as well. Well, Lucky...seems like I have to let you go now. I love you infinitesimally. Wait for me, Ocean Eyes.'