Love After Life

Epilogue

Epilogue

Three Years Later

September, 2017

Three years ago today I told him that I loved him. Three years ago I committed myself to a relationship with him. For the past three years, we have been living in a perfect, blissful bubble of happiness. We fought (it's our thing) and we had complications, but we worked it out. I am majoring in Pharmaceutical Sciences and Administration and I am minoring in Social Work.

Living with an abusive father for fifteen years has helped me decide that I want to help kids in similar situations. I don't see him anymore, my father. I had cut off all ties with him during my sophomore year. Living in the world that we do, I have decided that I will be more successful in the long run if I get my Masters Degree.

The rules at UCLA say that students aren't allowed to live off of campus until you're a junior and you're given the option of joining a fraternity or sorority your second year. I escaped the dorms and moved into an apartment with Carter my third year here; he was a senior. We lived in a small studio apartment ten miles from campus. Our cozy home was a half mile away from the nearest beach, easily a six to ten minute walk. I was skeptical at first; I didn't think that moving in after only dating for two years would be a good idea, but I was wrong. Besides, who wouldn't want to live in a place that is within walking distance from the ocean? That was a steal.

Carter made living with him a paradise, compared to living in the dorms. We had morning routines. Sleep in till 8:00. He made breakfast while I got ready, then we would both take his car to the campus for our 9:00 classes. At night we would help each other study or watch whatever was on TV. It's like we had already started a life together, like we were already married. Our tiny apartment felt like our first house as a couple. We both lived in the apartment up until this year.

Carter had gotten an internship for a huge business corporation in San Francisco. He had ended up majoring in business and minoring in history. We had gotten into this huge fight about whether or not he should major in business. I had disagreed, saying that he shouldn't let his father dictate his life, whereas he had argued that this was his decision. I knew better though, he hated business and financial related things. I should know, I was the one who ended up finishing his assignments from those classes, but he still chose it. His mind is set on business, but his heart will always choose history. If you hear him talk about all the wars, then you will find a new appreciation for history. Apparently his great uncle and grandfather were fighter pilots in World War II and the Vietnam War, both died in combat. He chose money over what's important to him.

I am currently heading back to the apartment that is now only mine. Carter has his own condo in San Francisco and we switch off turns of who will drive where. It's his turn this week. I open the front door and walk into the single room. Memories of him and I overwhelm me. Carter and I making dinner in the tiny kitchenette. Us cuddling on the small sofa, while watching the news. The corner that I would always flee to whenever he made me mad...or upset. This room is filled with stories and tales, but without him here it is empty. Carter has been gone for three months. After he left, he didn't come back and visit for almost three weeks. The days were endless and the nights spent alone were unbearable. I felt lonesome, like I did for so many years.

Somehow while I was reminiscing the memories--and when the nostalgia took its place-- I must've sat down on the corner of my unmade bed. I decide to clean up the place. I pick up the dirty plates and coffee mugs and place them in the dishwasher. After loading up the dishwasher with all of the grimy plates, utensils, and cups, I make the bed and sweep the floor. By the time I finish, the door opens. Carter enters, with his arms filled with grocery bags and other things. A smile edges its way on my face within seconds.