Page 116 of Final Proposal

The tears come. It’s no use holding them back. I’ve already screamed and yelled and cursed God and everything in between for taking her. For having to go on without her.

I lean over and press my lips to the wooden lid, warm from the sun’s rays. I hate how much she’ll miss. How much I’ll miss her. How I’m supposed to live without her. Because this time, I have no one to hold me while I cry.

There are no shoulders to lean into.

I can feel the loss sink into me. The fear to love without dreading the loss that comes after, enveloping me.

Because why try?

“I know you were brave enough to love again, Mom, but I’m not. I’ll never be as brave as you were.”

I never want to feel this way again.

Ever.

The breeze picks up again and the leaf that tumbled by earlier comes back the other direction and hits my leg.

“You trying to tell me something, Mom?” I smile through the tears, wondering what she would have looked like now. Fine lines and gray hairs she’d fuss over when they peeked through. Rumblings over why I’m not married and when I’ll give her grandkids.

Normalcy.

Things I’ve been robbed of.

Things I fear more than anything.

I met a man, Momma. He’s kind and funny and handsome . . . and he believes in me more than I do sometimes.

I love him.

I love him, and I’m so damn terrified that by loving him, I’m going to lose him. I can’t do this to him. To his family.

I just can’t . . .

The tears come harder now as I lean my head back and let the warmth of the sun dry them from my cheeks. But I don’t think they’ll ever stop. They never have in a sense.

There’s such an irony that this place brings me such peace when it’s also the place where my life fell apart. I watched my mom’s face and body crumble as we said goodbye to my dad here. I had to say goodbye to her here too.

This is where I learned that love was too dangerous for your heart.

This is where I accepted that I would never let myself love anyone again.

I open my eyes to see the leaf picked up by the wind so it dances through the air a few feet off the ground.

I smile because in watching it, I can hear her voice. It’s faded over time, but right now it feels so real and loud and alive.

It’s okay to love him.

It’s okay to fear losing him.

But it’s not your love that’s causing this.

It’s not your fault.

I shake my head as if this is a two-way conversation and not just in my head. My fingers continue to trace, my thoughts continue to spin, and my heart still aches.

“If that’s true, then give me a sign, Mom. Give me a sign.”

Ford