There I was, standing all alone. I could see a kaleidoscope of colours and memories and faces but I was stuck. I could feel them, their presence gave me warmth and I could remember how good everything felt. But I could not touch them. They felt so close yet so far. I tried to move, move closer, I wanted to run. But I was stuck.
Where was I? What was happening? Where were you? And then I remembered.
I had been driving in the QEW when it had happened. I was on my way to see you, after months and months of waiting we were finally in the same country. All I could think about was how I couldn’t wait to see your goofy little smile, to ride the sky wheel and just be there with you. It had been a tough few months for both of us and we needed this, badly. I was close to the exit when it happened. She came out of nowhere, her car drifting into my lane and sending me flying trying to swerve away, and I almost did, for a split second I thought I had avoided the worst and that I would be okay, but then it wasn’t. I lost control of the car, and that was it. I remember hitting the wall and then nothing.
I shuddered just at the thought of the impact. Looking for scars of red and purple on my skin, instead I saw nothing. Now that I looked down my body seemed somewhat perfect, my skin glowing and clear. There wasn’t a single scratch on me.
Was I dying? Is this what death was, this montage of the good, bad and ugly? Was it supposed to be this peaceful? or was this the calm before the storm?
‘Layla wake up, sweetie please wake up. You can’t…you can’t leave me…..this is not how it’s supposed to end’
I could feel him close to me, but I couldn’t feel his warmth. I knew he was there. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through, all I knew was that I wish that he wasn’t here, he shouldn’t have to see this. Whatever this was, whatever state I was in should not be his last memory of me. I wanted his last memory to be of when we were at that beach that night before he left.
We had ended up at a small little beach after we had both decided we weren’t ready for the date to be over, but we also didn’t want to go home just yet. So we sat in his car and drove a little further into town and found ourselves at the bluffs. Determined to find the beach we began walking and talking about things that scare us. Which is ironic, because I was scared of the unknown and there I was with a boy I had just begun to know, walking into a forest/beach, in the dark, literally walking into the unknown with him and metaphorically walking along into the unknown of where this relationship would lead us. We ended up finding this little bench overlooking the ocean and a stone beach, he held me close because it was cold, and we talked about life. About how his dad suffered severe depression, about how his demons ate at him everyday, even about how my obsession with powdered donuts was weird. That was the day I had looked him in the eye and I had known that without a doubt, this boy would either be the best thing or the worst thing I would ever face. I knew that day that the connection I had with him was for the likes of Shakespeare, it was undeniably that kind of epic love that’s written in the stars. The kind you look for, but rarely find. I knew I felt it, and I knew he did to, because that night he gave me that look, that look that I would later go on to describe his “I want to say something, but if I do she’s going to run” face, but I knew what that look was. Even if he didn’t want to say it out loud or say anything, I knew in that moment that he felt the same. The rest, as they say, is history.
Things were starting to get brighter, and warmer. I think this was it, this was the moment I was supposed to let go and leave this world? Was I supposed to welcome death with open arms, ready to face either the blank darkness of the end or something else as the spiritual individuals of the world would say.
This can’t be it.
If you read this far, wow thank you! This is just a bit of story writing I love to do sometimes, if you have any feedback please do send it my way!