November rain pelts the our bedroom window, but we pay it no mind. Using a large chunk of the remaining money we had laying around, Collin and I decided to buy a burial plot. We planned to bury Aaron's ashes the day we lost him; today. Collin makes a knot in his tie and I slide on my least turn up pair of fishnets and slide my Doc Martens on over them. Pulling the hem of my long sleeved dress down, I prop up the mirror, wipe off the remnants, and begin to clip my curls behind my ears. My hair is almost done to my chin, and I learn how to manage it. Once I'm finish, I turn around to see Collin staring at me. "You're fucking beautiful," he whispers. Tears welling in my eyes, I thank him. I grab the urn carrying his ashes from off the top of the dresser, and Collin grabs the baggie of drugs from outta the dresser drawer. Leaving the bedroom, he heads to the bathroom, and I hear the toilet flush. Last night, we went thru and got rid of all the paraphernalia and stash boxes. Mickey joked about us selling the last bag of H, but we tell him its symbolic. "Hippie faggots," he snorted, but left alone...
The rain hits us as we stand in front of the head stone. Kneeling in front of it, I touch the freshly carved name: Aaron Wolfgang Milkovich. A bittersweet sorrow clenches my heart and I welcome it. It reminds that I loved my son, that I still do. Digging the now wet earth, I make a small hole, which Collin bends down and dumps the ashes into. Grabbing my hand, he helps me up, and into his arms I crumble. For the first time since it happened, I allow myself to feel, and Collin does the same. Rain mixes with our tears, cleansing the poison we kept in for so long. We cling to each other, being both strength and vulnerability for the other. Tho we never got to meet him, he was apart of us... the better parts of ourselves mixed into one being. I tell myself that of all the world had to offer, he only knew the best of it: the safety of his mother's womb, and the comfort of his father's voice. No words need to be spoken between us, because we both just know. We stay at the cemetary until the our clothes are heavy with moisture and chills run up and down our spines. Leading me back to the car, Collin opens the door, watches me get in, heads to the drivers seat and asks me if I'm ready for what's to come. "Fucking A," I grin, already feeling the onslaught. "Its gonna fucking suck," Collin nods, a resignation in his voice. "But we got it," I remind him gently, reaching over for his hand. He clenches mine tightly, brings it to his lips and gives it a kiss.
"You've got me, baby," he says, tears sliding down his face.
"I know," my voice cracks as I wipe away his tears. "I always have..." The engine turns and I turn on the radio. "Disarm" by the Smashing Pumpkins plays, and I turn it up, releasing every single painful thought and feeling it conjures. Collin keeps his hand firmly on mine and allows me this moment.
"The killer in me is the killer in you
Send this smile over to you
The killer in me is the killer in you
Send this smile over to you..."
