As odd as it sounds, life has basically returned to normal. It feels weird that that could even be a possibility. After losing someone so dear to me, I would think that years would have to pass before my anguish would subside, but it's been weeks. I still have moments, bouts of achingly dreadful grief when I just break down for no reason, but then I wipe my tears and go on.
I've learned that the loss of a loved one creates a sense of presence within a person. Suddenly the future doesn't exist. It's not because I don't want it to exist. I very much want to continue on and live my life to the fullest potential, but it ceases to exist after a loss because our minds can't comprehend the future without that person in it. It's a way of protecting ourselves and a way of getting through hell without falling apart.
So now, I focus on taking things one day at a time. I can manage that. It was never strange to go a few days at a time without seeing my mom, so now, that's how I'm acting. I'm pretending that things are normal, and my mom and dad are happily living their lives just a couple blocks away. It's only when I stop to really think about the truth that I realize how dangerous my thoughts might be. I guess they say that denial is a stage of grief, so I'm going to soak up this stage for as long as possible, because I very much like this world of make-believe. Obviously I know the truth, I just choose to ignore it any chance I get.
And one of those moments is now.
Seth and I are lounging on the couch, my legs sprawled out, taking up most of the space while he's pushed into the furthest corner. He's got one arm propped on the arm of the sofa and the other resting along the back. He looks comfortable, no matter how little room he has. I smile looking at him. His eyes are trained on the TV, but there's an awareness in his face, like he knows I'm looking at him. I honestly don't care though. I don't care about a lot of things these days—least of all, if my husband catches me checking him out.
That's how things have been lately. I say and do whatever I please without the fear of consequences. And even though my mind had originally played with the very real possibility that my lack of care could damage mine and Seth's relationship further, it seems to have done the very opposite. It's like this new boldness I have is making me act in a way that I wouldn't have before. The part of me that used to not care about other people's opinions and the part of me that wasn't concerned about the ramifications of my actions is finally blooming again. And it's most definitely a good change.
My eyes slither over Seth's cheekbones, to his jaw, down his neck, and towards his chest. Again, he's wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt, and I find myself slightly annoyed by this fact. Why does he always have to conceal himself so much? I just want to be able to look whenever I want to. And yet, I also find it slightly appealing that he keeps himself so hidden. He's still a mystery and I like that. I've always loved a good surprise, and he's good at creating them.
I see Seth's lips twitch upwards and a moment later his gaze swings over to mine.
"Something on your mind?" he asks, a mischievous quirk of his mouth.
"Hmm." I shrug. "Not really. Just noticing how mighty fine you look."
His brows lift in surprise, but the smile doesn't leave his features as he turns to face me more directly.
"Really?" The gleam in his eyes might indicate that he's teasing me, but I can hear the genuine shock in the simple question. He'd obviously not been expecting that at all.
"What?" I say, mimicking his expression with a playful quirk of my own lips. "You didn't know?"
"Uh," he pauses, scratches his ear, and then chuckles softly. "Well, nobody's really given me a reason to think so lately, so... no. I guess I didn't know."
"Well," I say, pulling my knees towards my chest and wrapping my arms around them. "Whoever's job it is to inflate your ego, they're failing at it miserably." I laugh at my own lame joke, but I find my cheesiness worth it when Seth laughs with me.
The credits for the movie we'd been watching moments before start to roll up the screen and I glance toward the TV, not even a little bit disappointed that we'd missed the ending. It's getting close to supper time by now and I'm debating whether I want to get up and cook or if I'd rather just starve in the comfort of my couch. I opt for option number two. I have zero desire to move and zero desire to whip up a meal. So, might as well remain content where I'm at.
Seth clearly has other plans though, because he's pushing himself off the couch the moment he notices that our movie is over. I watch him head to the kitchen and a little part of me celebrates over the fact that he's probably going to do the honors of making dinner—just like he has for the past three weeks.
He's been good to me. Really good. It's funny how much easier our relationship has become over the past three weeks since my mother's death. It's like Seth realizes how much I'm hurting and he's doing everything in his power to ease that pain. Even if he doesn't actually wish to shower me with affection and kindness, he's doing a good job of pretending. And yet, somehow, I don't think he's pretending.
As my thoughts swirl around mine and Seth's relationship, I find my eyes growing heavy. I've been doing a lot of sleeping lately, and I don't know if it's my body finally catching up on months of horrible sleep, or if it's a side effect of grief. But, whatever the reason, I'm grateful. I drift off to the sound of Seth chopping vegetables in the kitchen with a satisfied smile on my lips.
———
It seems like hours have passed when I feel a slight shake of my shoulders. I peel my eyelids apart and glance around with blurry vision. Blinking several times, I find Seth's face just inches from mine. He offers a tender smile and then mutters that dinner is ready.
I'm so groggy as I sit up that a part of me wants to just drop back into the couch and sleep until November, but I'm too hungry. That's one thing that didn't die along with my mother—my appetite. I actually think it's grown. If I'm not careful, I'll be a whale by Christmas.
Too bad my motivation has ceased to exist. My desire to look as fit and delicious as possible has withered to basically nothing. The only things that really matter these days are food and sleep... and Summer Sausage—because Summer Sausage deserves a category of its own apart from simply 'food'. Sausage is special and will always have a place in my heart.
Seth and I take our seats around the dining room table—a new tradition for us, but one I'm not against in the slightest—as we prepare to eat. I watch as Seth fills our plates with mashed potatoes and meatloaf. It smells so good that I nearly groan in anticipation. It's literally only been three hours since I last ate, but by the acceleration of my pulse, and the overflow of saliva on my tongue, you'd think I hadn't eaten in days. Ridiculous, really. I need to just calm down.
We munch in silence—well, almost silence... apart from my not-so-silent munching—because I'm too busy shoveling food into my pie hole to offer any conversation. I'm actually slightly surprised I haven't gnawed a finger or two off in my hurry to fill my gaping stomach. I know Seth is watching me. I can almost feel the concern in his gaze, but I ignore it. The last thing on my mind is looking beautiful. Food comes before beauty any day, and if Seth has a problem with that, he can close his eyes... or leave.
"You know what I want to do?" I suddenly ask, a mound of food making my left cheek bulge like a volcano.
This would be a horrible time to laugh because there'd be no holding in the contents. It'd be a mess. And unfortunately for me, just the thought of that happening has a smile spreading over my face. It's very bad timing for a smile, but I manage to quickly chew and swallow before any food explodes out of my grinning lips.
"What's that?" Seth asks as he takes another bite and then lifts his head to watch me as he chews.
"Parkour."
"Really?" His forehead crease as he shoots me a thoughtful look. I just nod in response before taking another bite.
"Heck, yes," I mumble around another bite of food. "Don't tell me you haven't wanted to do parkour before?"
"Oh, no," he says with a grin. "I've definitely wanted to. I just never considered that you'd want to try."
I give him a deadpanned look, my next bite frozen in midair as I halt my fork's movement towards my mouth.
"Do you know me at all?" I ask in disbelief. I shake my head in mock disappointment and then chomp down on another fork full of meatloaf.
"Fine," Seth concedes. "Let's go."
I choke.
"What?" I gape at him, unblinking. "Like, right now?"
"No," he says, giving me a blank look. "In two months." Now he's the one shaking his head in disappointment. "Of course right now. I know you well enough that if I actually tried to 'plan' this moment, you'd have a conniption. So," he says, shoving his last bite into his mouth as he stands, "let's go now."
"But..." I glance out the window, my fork still in hand as Seth goes to clear my plate. I've still got two bites left, and I'm quickly jerked out of my stupor as I jab my fork into the last couple bites of meatloaf while Seth pulls the dish away. I shoot him a victory smirk as I shove both bites into my mouth at once.
Seth has never been the real spontaneous type. Sure, he has his moments when he surprises me, but never like this. This is a huge deal. I mean, we could get arrested. But, he seems to want to please me, and I don't have any intention of stopping him.
I hear him put the plates in the sink, and then he's exiting the kitchen and snatching his keys up from the opposite end of the dining room table.
"Ready?" he asks, moving towards the front door to slip on his shoes.
"Uh..." I glance down at my paint-covered jeans and wince. "Hold on."
With quick movements, I scurry into the bedroom and search for the most flexible pair of yoga pants I can find. I need to be able to move easily if I'm going to be jumping rooftops tonight. Wasting little time, I dress and throw my hair into a sloppy bun before exiting the room.
Seth's already in his truck by the time I'm done, and I fling myself out the front door as if I'm being chased by zombies. I can't even explain the level of excitement I'm feeling right now. I've never been more anxious and electrified about anything in my life. This is going to be the most exhilarating thing on the planet. I know it.
Twenty minutes later, I realize just how wrong I was.
Sure, parkour might be amazing... if you live in the right place for it. Like, maybe a city where all the buildings are close enough to make jumping from one to the next a possibility. I happen to live in a hick town in Illinois where homes are typically miles from each other. Even in town, people tend to like their privacy and strive to have several meters between them and their neighbors.
Downtown is the only place where some of the buildings attach... but that's the problem. They're all attached. You can't jump from building to building because they're all one building. So, ditching the idea of living on the edge and risking our lives for a moment of carefree fun, Seth and I find ourselves sitting on a fire escape as we watch the stars.
Truthfully, I'd wanted to take part in something slightly more blood-pumping, but sitting next to the man I love as we gaze peacefully at the sky is definitely not worth complaining about.
"Can I ask you a question?" I say after several minutes of quiet.
Seth glances at me, a glimmer in his eyes as he searches my face. Then he nods as he mutters a soft "sure."
"Do you ever regret not pursuing your dreams?"
It's a question that I've pondered many times over the last five years. I've always known the massive sacrifice Seth made by choosing me over his passion, but for some reason, I'd never bothered to question him on it... until now.
I can see that he's working out the proper way to answer my question. His eyes are no longer pointed in my direction as he gazes into the distance. He watches the headlights of a car until it passes and then diverts his eyes upwards at the moon. I don't push him to answer because I need him to figure out his response first.
He takes a deep breath and then leans his back against the rails of the fire escape as he turns to focus on me again.
"No."
That's it. That's all he says, and normally I wouldn't believe him, but the fact that he took such precious time conjuring up that response tells me that there's truth in it. He didn't just spout the first answer he could come up with.
"You don't regret it?" I ask again, just to make sure.
"No," he verifies. "I could never regret major life decisions because every experience I've been through has taught me something valuable. I refuse to focus on the what-ifs because I'd hate to be a bitter man who feels cheated." He glances up at the sky again. "Sure, I would have loved to pursue my dreams, and occasionally I think of what my life might be like now if we'd chosen a different route, but that doesn't mean I regret this life. I could never regret this life."
"Really?" I question, slowly losing faith in his ability to be honest. "You have no regrets?"
We're both sitting side-by-side, our shoulders brushing every once in a while, and as Seth speaks I can almost feel the heat radiating from the skin beneath his shirt. He leans into me slightly, and my body grows stiff and anxious with the contact.
"I didn't say that," he counters, finding my gaze again before letting his eyes wander toward the stars. "I have numerous regrets—countless regrets, actually. Things that I wish I could take back and redo. But, you didn't ask me if I had regrets; you asked if I regretted not pursuing my dream. That's basically like asking if I regret my life. And the answer is still no. I don't regret my life, but I do regret some of the things I've done in my life."
"Like what?"
He turns towards me, resting his forearms on his knees as he watches me intensely.
"You," he answers in an almost hoarse whisper.
I'm speechless as my lungs fight to pull in air. I'd wanted honesty, but never expected cruelty. I glance down at my Converse-covered feet as my fingers pick aimlessly at the invisible lint on my pants.
"You regret me?" I ask softly, fearful that he's going to crush my spirit even more than he already has.
"No," he says. "Never."
I feel the air rush from my body as relief fills me like a waterfall into an empty pond.
"I could never regret you," he clarifies. "But I have regretted things I've done to you. Or things I should have done."
The blood beneath my chest begins to pump hotter, and I wonder if I've got flames slithering through my veins. As Seth vocalizes his thoughts, he turns to face me, a fierceness in his eyes that has my blood boiling. There's something vulnerable written on his face—an openness that I'm dying to submerge myself in. So, I do, by asking the only question that I can think to ask.
"And what should you have done?" I inquire, my words floating into the air between us without any permission from my brain. I just can't seem to get my body under control though, and as my eyes focus unabashedly on Seth's mouth, I watch a playful smile come to life on his lips.
"This," he says, his voice deep and husky.
And before I can even gather what's happening, Seth's lips are on mine. It's like nothing I've ever experienced before. The unexpectedness of the kiss has me reeling with shock, but the tenderness and passion flowing from Seth's touch has my body responding with an urgency. It's absolutely toe-curling and divine. There's so much heat zipping between us that I could almost swear he's kissing flames into my bloodstream.
If the scorching bliss searing my blood vessels together happened to actually kill me right here, and right now, I'd die a happy woman.