What Follows

`′but my ache for him is stronger than my anger. i want to speak of something not dead or divine. i want him to live′

Tobias and Benji found me in the Darkoom with the paper clutched in my hand and my knees brought to my chest. And I remember thinking everything through. Thinking about Joshua’s fate and Sierra’s legs getting roasted in the hell she walked herself into.

I was thinking about me and my next, endless cycles. I was thinking about how one day I’ll miserably celebrate Jacob’s graduation, Joshua’s marriage and Mom’s death as time goes on.

Because that’s the thing with this personal hell. Everything, everyone moves on, except for me. I’ll forever be stuck in my sick mind and sickening regrets.

There’s no accepting this eternal doom. There is no ‘hey, it’ll be okay’. There’s no ′hold on for a couple more days, it’ll get better’. Needless to say, there’ll only be reminiscing of what was and what could’ve been. And I’ve been thinking about all this lately, about how I’ll live with myself. And maybe, I think, I would’ve rather lived my previous life over that damned existence.

So when Tobias showed up in front of me looking sad as he told me about his brother’s death anniversary, I just nodded. I nodded because that was all I could ever do. Because, here, we’re all alone and no-one can take away anyone’s pain. So I nodded as the needles of my own pain poked my sensationless skin, reminding me of the priority I should give them. I nodded, but really, all I cared, all I care about is how I’m feeling.

All I care about is me.

Of course, I care about Tobias, but he doesn’t consume my thoughts as my own troubles do. This isn’t the place for romanticizing eyes and hair.

When I looked up at him and he asked me what had happened, I smiled at him and decided not to explain the ‘not-very-long’ story of Joshua’s doom. I decided that we might have a lot less than we’d like in this cycle of ours, and I wasn’t going to waste it on explaining a pain he might not fully comprehend. And I wouldn’t be disappointed because I, too, fail to grasp his agony.

Because that’s the thing with other’s pain; it’s incomprehensible to the onlookers. It’s something that can only be sympathized with but never quite understood, felt.

And it is okay. All I ever want from Tobias is his presence. And that too I won’t have. So instead of having wasted our remaining time with sappy, relatively inconsequential shit, I shoved the paper in his hand.

Tobias studied the paper and smiled with a hint of surprise lighting up his features. He then helped me to my feet, returned my paper, and said that what I wrote was a nice touch and will be appreciated.

He also told me that he missed me more than he should have, given the few days we have left. That it was unwise of him.

He told me I was his darling. And, of course, I appropriately told him off. And, you know, as always, he laughed it off.

And now we’re standing where I want to be.

I’m at that very beach I’ve spent lonely nights in, on its white sand, or hefty nights in, with Jacob, on the worn-out bench Tobias, Benji and I are standing by.

The sun is setting into the cotton-candy pink sky and the sand is shimmering weakly as I breathe deeply with the swaying vegetation bordering the beach. Some clothes are scattered around and I know that my brother is taking a swim in the still, azure waters, with its soft to-hear-and-see waves that roll toward the shore, leaving unquantifiable froth behind.

It’s too tranquil to ever want to leave.

“I get why you spent time here,” Tobias announces as he sits on the bench. I catch his hazel eyes and my heart catches fire. “I feel like spilling all my guts out.”

“It is a beautiful place,” I say softly. “When it’s stormy it gets a little scary but it only makes you want to spill more of your anatomy.”

Tobias smiles. “You’ve got a whole lot of anatomy in you,” he remarks.

I smirk. “Don’t we all?”

Tobias looks at me adoringly. “Yes.”

I sigh inside his eyes and almost get lost if it isn’t for the paper in my hands. “I need to leave this letter behind,” I say and Tobias’ eyes flutter.

“I love what you’ve written for him,” he says.

“I hope he finds it.”

“He will,” he says with a small smile before letting his eyes drift over the horizon. “Do you think you could’ve written me a letter?”

“Here’s how it played inside my head,” I tell him. “I write you a letter. You wake up the next cycle thinking what the hell am I doing with this paper? Who the hell is this Roseline? And then you get rid of the paper. It’s pointless,” I say, hiding the waves of pain in my dress’ pockets.

“So you’ve considered it?” Tobias asks softly as he watches Benji leave us to chase his tail in the sand.

I glance at his head of wavy, fiery hair and lie. “No.” I wrote you a booklet with Joshua’s favourite pen, but I chose to leave it behind in the Darkoom because it’s the right thing to do.

Tobias turns to me and catches my eyes. He nods slowly. “What would you have written?”

“Does it matter?” A booklet. A book.

Tobias’ lips turn upward into a smile. “Come on, it’ll be fun,” he urges. “I’ll tell you what I’d write in yours!”

Hearing the excitement in his voice brings me to sit by his side as I force all that I actually wrote for him away.

“To that annoying, loser redhead,” I start and he leans forward, puts his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands, and tilts his head in my direction. He’s listening with a wide, glistening smile. I suddenly find it difficult to keep the flow. “It’s been a nice ride-”

“It’s been an awful one,” he points out and I shake my head with a smile.

“You made my awful, horrible, painful ride a little less awful,” I correct and he looks at me approvingly. “And I’ve done the same to yours-”

“As an actual witness to the ‘awfulness’ of my life, I’d like to object and say that that’s a false claim-”

“Stop interrupting me,” I say playfully and he mouthes a hasty ′sorry’. ”Anyway. You’ve helped me out and thank you for that. Uh, I don’t know what to say.” I lie. “There’s nothing to say,” I lie again.

“So far, this letter sounded like you were thanking a teacher.”

“You were like a teacher; you taught me stuff,” I say.

Tobias frowns and smiles at the same time. “That’s a horrible thing to say to a person in love with you,” he says and I immediately look away.

“Why don’t you tell me what you would’ve written?” I come back at him, ignoring his bold statement.

Tobias stares at me unwaveringly. ”Don’t you know?"

I blink at him. “Alright, never mind.”

Tobias straightens up and smiles, still watching me closely. “You wanna be praised, it’s okay,” he teases. “I mean, that’s what I’ve been doing since...forever.” I’m about to argue when he holds up his finger to stop me. “I have a letter to recite and no time to fight.”

“Okay, please, I know it’s difficult, but please try not to make it cheesy-”

“But letters are mozzarella sticks,” he argues and I chuckle. “Okay,” he inhales deeply before faking a cough and clearing his throat. “To my Rose-” He lifts his brows playfully. “-it’s been a pleasure and a great honour to be the one who ′teaches′ you all about this hell hole,” he says and I smile. “You, you,” he blinks at me and sighs heavily. “You are that light at the end of my tunnel, you know? A light that I’ll eventually turn blind to when I forget you,” he says. “But a light, nevertheless.”

I look into my hands as he takes a loud pause.

“That’s it,” he says, and I sharply turn to him.

"That’s it?" I ask, and I’m more disappointed than relieved. It worries me. Tobias’ pupils dilate almost extraordinarily.

“If it saddens you then there is more,” he tells me quickly and I almost believe I can feel the warmth this spilt over my ‘anatomy’.

“It doesn’t sadden me,” I say softly. “I don’t think anything you can do will ever sadden me, Tobias.”

Tobias shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I hate this.”

I blink. “I hate it too.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he tells me. “I hate that this is it. That there’s no time to complain about it. I just wish things were different.” The way he sets his gaze on me makes me want to cry. “I wish I was alive, without this mountain of pain on my shoulders and with your smile as my forever and only safe haven.”

I find it difficult to keep looking into his glassy eyes. I find it difficult to keep suppressing and suppressing my emotions as if they don’t exist. They shouldn’t exist.

“I need to leave this letter somewhere,” I say as Tobias blinks himself to reality.

“Yes.”

“Should I leave it in his pants’ pockets?” I ask, pretending that my every heart cell isn’t tearing me up inside. “Or-or should I find a rock and leave it somewhere?”

Tobias seems to understand what I’m doing as he silently stares. “Somewhere.”

I get to my feet and his eyes follow me. “I should leave it on this bench,” I say. “It’s where we used to sit-”

I then walk toward the shore, my hands clenched and my vision blurring as I keep reminding myself that I’m looking for a rock. A rock. You’re looking for a rock, I keep telling myself as the blue of the sea shakes hands with the mauve of the sky, the white of the sand and the gold of Benji’s fur. A perfect mix I can see through the lens of my tears.

My breaths leave my mouth in a hurry that’s not fast enough because I have to be quiet. I have to be quiet, to shush and look for a rock. A rock to leave behind my suicide note. A rock, a rock.

I randomly drop to the sand, my knees abnormally bent beneath me as I pretend to scatter around the sand in search for a rock. I pretend that, to give all the previous events the chance to catch up on me and drag me down.

And maybe, I realize, I more than care about Tobias and it mortifies me.

I shiver with the attempt to suppress my sobs as my fingers wrap themselves around a rock, forming a firm fist. I bring my fist to my chest and double over, my forehead kissing the sand in a very inelegant manner. My hair cascades around me like an umbrella for things I need protection from. Things that are mainly Tobias.

I hear my name and straighten up to desperately stare at Tobias whose lips are parted in shock. My face might as well be a crime scene to him.

He approaches me and drops on the sand in front of me before reaching for my face and tilting my chin toward him. A breeze ruffles through his hair and I further clench my hand, imagining my heart there.

“Why do you keep running away?” He asks softly.

"Because I have to," I tell him, suddenly sounding like my heart. I hate how my heart sounds like. “Because I’d hate to make a memory with you that would later have no title in my head. Please. This is awful. There will be cycles that I’ll spend all alone. We can’t-”

Tobias is shaking his head as if he can’t catch up with all the words I’m throwing at him. As if he’s begging me, please, to slow down on his heart.

“I’m sorry,” his pink lips whisper as mine quiver.

“We have to let go,” I say. “We have to let go. Maybe, Tobias, I’ve been thinking that we should say our goodbyes.”

Tobias’ eyes are bloodshot as they pore holes into me. “Goodbyes?"

"Yes,” I grab his hands and stare into his eyes. “I don’t want you to just drift away without closure. I want- I want to make sure I’ve said everything, that this forgetting thing is on my terms.”

“You’d rather spend our last days weaving goodbyes we’ll forget rather than just trying not to hurt each other more?" Tobias says as if offended. “Why are you eager for the heartache?”

I shake my head and swallow my breath away. “Listen, no,” I tell the disappointment in his voice. “I’m so scared.”

Tobias eyes me carefully, his hair glistening weakly with the sand grains entangled in it. “I don’t expect anything, Roseline. Please, don’t worry about this. Don’t be scared. I know what I said in Paris might be pressuring you, but love, please, ignore it all.” He tells me fast and I wonder, I wonder, how can someone ignore something so profoundly wrong?

“It’s all my fault,” He then says defeatedly, his fingers absently sifting through the sand.

"Your fault-?”

"Yes,” he sighs sadly. “I didn’t tell you that we’re bound to forget each other. And for that, for that additional heartache, oh love, you have no idea how sorry I am,” He says, his hazels welling up.

And I cry at that. I cry as he wipes my tears, looking apologetic. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that the damage is already done.

He doesn’t know that I’d rather be alive, without that mountain of pain on my shoulders, with his smile as my forever and only safe haven.