I always lose my appetite in the weeks following a traumatizing event, so when I finally start to feel better, the first thing I realize is that I can clearly see my ribcage and all my extra small t-shirts fit like muumuus. Like a human vacuum cleaner, I inhale every scrap of food I can find, which is exactly what I was doing in the airport food court while Tristan watched me from a distance.
I grabbed the armload of food off of the counter and thanked the cashier, heading back to the bench where he was waiting for me, knee deep in suitcases. Three months had passed since Sammy's funeral, and as much as I hadn't wanted this day to come, today was the day that Tristan left for university.
“How long until your flight?” I asked, bracing myself for the answer even thought I already knew.
“I board in 10 minutes.” Tristan sighed, tossing his backpack over his shoulder. My hands trembled as I bent down to help him with his suitcases, and he let out a shaky breath.
“This is for you,” he told me, handing me a light blue envelope with a slight bulge in the middle. I started to open it, but he stopped me. “Don't read it until I'm gone.”
“Alright,” I said quietly, and he pulled me in for a hug just as a lady's voice came on the PA telling everyone that pre-boarding for flight 621 to Arizona had begun.
“That's me,” he sighed, pulling away hesitantly and hiding his face. I grabbed his chin and tilted his head up so that I could see his face, only to find his eyes filled with tears.
“Allergies,” he explained quickly, and I raised my eyebrows, smiling.
“Oh really? What're you allergic to?”
“Goodbyes.” he murmured, just as the same lady came back on the PA system to announce the final boarding call for Tristan's flight.
“It looks like this is it.” he said, staring at me thoughtfully for a long time before pulling me into a bear hug. “Don't forget the letter.”
Then he pulled away, and with a sad smile and a half hearted wave, he headed towards the gate. He stopped suddenly, and took a hesitant step towards me, as if he was unsure of what to do next. “I love you,” he called, and then I told him I loved him too, and then with a sad smile he disappeared through the gate, for real this time.
Tristan was gone.
************************
I found it funny that the only place where I felt at peace was also the place that made me the saddest. I turned off the car and headed down the stone path that I'd followed countless times over the last few months, letting out a long breath that turned to fog in the autumn air.
The once fresh dirt over Sammy's grave was now turning into grass, and I sat down at the foot of it, pulling my sleeves down over my hands to keep warm.
“I miss you,” I told him, but was only answered by the sound of the slight breeze rustling the leaves above me.
I hadn't even started to get over his death yet. Every time I went somewhere or did something, I always thought “he should be here with me” and then I'd think of all the things we had promised to do, and all the places we said we would go, and then I would get sad because there was nothing I could do to bring him back. Tristan, with the help of Sammy's parents, had managed to launch an investigation against Chad, which had given me some hope, although not very much. Sammy's parents had divorced, his dad and sister moving to Philadelphia, his mom staying here to be with her son. I still hadn't visited her yet, and I wondered if I ever would.
For the first month after Sammy's death, our school had forced his closest friends to go to therapy. Quinn, Aubrey, Lacey and I had all gone together, told our therapist that we had accepted his death, and that we were working together to move on, because that was what they wanted to hear.
People always think they know you. They think they know how you're handling a situation, but they don't know what happens when you aren't around them anymore, when you're lying in bed fully clothed, staring at your wall at three in the afternoon, or when you're slumped over your breakfast, all alone, and all you want to do is cry. But I said I was fine anyways, I said I was getting better, because that's what makes them feel like they've done their job. It made them feel better. It made everyone feel better, everyone but me.
Even now, months later, I still have to force myself to concentrate in school. I always feel completely drained, and have to force myself into everything that I do. I still flinch every single time my phone rings, wondering whether its going to be the phone call telling me that Dallas is gone.
His brother had given me his cell phone number before we'd left the hospital, and we'd stayed in touch. Talking to him was a lot like talking to Dallas, but it still wasn't the same. No one could replace Dallas, and it was even worse with Lacey and Quinn gone. They'd both left a few weeks ago to kick off their first tour, a two person band until the others could be replaced, leaving me completely alone.
I stood up and brushed off my pants and hoodie, my hands running over the front pocket where something crumpled, startling me. I'd completely forgotten about Tristan's letter.
I tore it open immediately, and held my breath, not sure what to expect.
Dear Hartley,
God, I miss you. I miss our stupid jokes that no one understands and how unbelievably awkward we are around each other, even though we've known each other for years. I don't think I've ever connected with anymore more than I did with you. I'm afraid that you'll be the only person I'll ever actually want . I'm afraid that my one and only chance at possible happiness has passed me by. What if all the people I meet after you aren't good enough? I'm so afraid I'll close myself off to everyone with the excuse that no one will ever be as good as you, no one will ever make me feel that way you did. Everyone always forgets that everything is so temporary. We postpone feelings and words to another day, another week, another month, another year. Everything is temporary, and then eventually it ends up like this. Time has run out, and we both know damn well that we could never say this face to face. I miss you, and you are amazing, and I am so, so sorry. I couldn't sleep last night because I know that its over between us. Im not bitter anymore, because I know what we had was real. And if in some distant place in the future, we see each other in our new lives, I'll grin and remember all the good times we spent. The best kind of love is the kind that makes you actually feel alive, and that's what you gave me. That's what I had hoped to give you too. I'll be seeing you, Hart.
I love you.
Yours forever,
Tristan
This is the part right before the credits roll, where you look at the screen and think, “Why the hell didn't they walk off into the sunset?” and you aren't wrong to ask. I asked myself the same thing.
The answer is simple: Some people aren't entitled to happy endings.
I am one of those people.
The End
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This is it. We're done. Finished. I almost feel empty, its really weird. But I'll be posting an authors note in a day or two, so i guess you can sort of look forward to that :/