The Strength To Move On

 

~A Contest Entry~

 

It fell in on me. Crushing me.

I closed my eyes, feeling the chilly wind blow past. My hair brushed against my face, making my skin tingle. I tucked my hands into my pockets, feeling the back of my eyes burn. It was hard to fight down the coming tears, and as each memory settled in on the roost of my mind, a weight bore down on my chest. 

The sun cast out its warm rays, filling the sky with a deep orange. The many hues mixed with one another, painting the sky and the small excuse of a cloud the most beautiful colors.

 

He had loved the sunset.

 

 

So many times before, he had brought me out to that very mountain top to gaze at the beauty of the world. I remembered sitting next to him, head resting on his shoulder, watching as the sun said its goodbye and left the world for the moon to light up with its gloomy iridescence. His arm would be wrapped around me, those brown eyes of his staring out at the mandala  created by mother nature herself.

I hugged myself, trying to keep the cold from penetrating my jacket. The snow that laid heavily on the floor glinted in the light, sparkling. It's sheen reflected the warm, weakening sunlight.

 

He had loved the snow too.

 

Tears sprung to my eyes, blurring the world that had cracked and fallen in pieces around my feet like a broken mirror. Nothing was the same anymore. Forever I would spin in the depths of sorrow, constantly in reach of the milky film of depressing. 

Ever since that day, all that time ago...

I shook my head, turning my back to the sun's goodbye and padding back into the forest. The trees were bare, covered in glittering white. Pools of light fell through their branches, speckling the ground with splashes of light that led me through the pending dusk. My boots crunched with every small step, my heart splintered with every thought and memory.

Brown pine needles were scattered across the forest floor. I was told that evergreens were supposed to live forever. I guess they were wrong.

Nothing lived forever. Nothing did. 

That was when something caught my eye. A flash of purple within the white and brown of the winter.

Turning, I kneeled down, not caring that the snow melted and seeped into my jeans. There was a flower. The smallest of flowers. It bloomed at the trunk of a tree, thick roots curling around it like hands around a baby. Its leaves showed the brightest of greens; its petals showed no sign of wilting in the cold of the forth season. The season of death.

I brushed a hand along one of its petals, as if I were brushing the bangs of my beloved. The flower stood strong, radiating warmth and peace, making me teem with the calming feelings.

 

He had loved the color purple.

 

The wind blew by me once again.

It's beautiful, isn't it?

I flinched, hesitating before lifting my head and gazing around. The wind continued to blow through the branches, chasing flurry after flurry to the ground. It slowed, and the flakes slowly swirled to the floor in a long dance.

A smile brushed at my lips, and I nodded.

"Yes, it is beautiful."

The wind picked up again, its whistle blowing through the trees.

I thought you would like it.

I stood up, spinning around. There was no one there, just the shadows of the coming darkness.

"Who are you?"

Another whistle.

You already know. 

A light slanted down through the branches, collecting together with two other small patches. Next to one another, it looked like a smiley face.

My heart fluttered, disbelief filtering through me.

Don't be so surprised. I love you, you know that. Why wouldn't I come back to you, to give you the strength to move on?

I shook my head, and the voice never returned. The wind never whispered to my again.

It was all just my imagination. He would never come back, he would never say the words I Love You. And I would never be able to reply, or say them myself.

I headed back to the spot where the sun set, my emotions twirling and beating at me. Then I started running, having to see it again before I left for good. 

My feet skidded to a halt, my breaths coming in painful gasps.

But I was too late.

The sky was in total darkness, not able to feel the warmth of the sun for another eight hours. 

I gritted my teeth, feeling hate bubble up inside me. 

"Why would you do such a thing!!" I shrieked, hands tight fists at my side. "You already took him! Why not give me one last chance to see the only part of him I know!?"

My voice cracked, and I crumbled to my knees. Tears dripped from my eyes like never ending waterfalls, sliding down my cheeks and forming small holes in the soft, white blanket. Why did you have to take him? Why can't you let us be together like the flower and the roots?

I didn't want to move on, like the wind had hinted I should do. It would mean leaving him, and that was the most dreaded conclusion I could think of. And yet, I wanted to. My emotions battled, each trying to win over the other.

I wanted him to stay by my side forever, I wanted to stay by his side forever.

Was that too much to ask?

Of course it was, because since when did life even care?

 

I wiped my eyes, before my tears froze forever on my face. I wished I was stronger, so that I could carry him around with me and continue on without the weight of my loss hanging heavily down on me, holding me back. Maybe then I could move on, but keep him there by my side and in my heart forever.

I didn't want our love to be ditched, suspended in the air where no one could ever know its existence again. Where no one would ever think of looking up and seeing it there, and smiling at it saying if only it had worked out. 

What if it had worked out? 

I shook my head, knowing the question wasn't even worth answering. It was just a dream. A sad dream that would never make me feel any better. I would never feel the warmth of his back pressed up again mine again, and that was a fact.

Not just a fact, but the terrible truth. 

Looking up, I stared at the horizon. There was a sliver of orange light glowing at the end of the world, a sight I hadn't noticed before. It looked like a feather. A feather of warmth, a sliver of hope. Like there was something at the end of the abyss she fell through that would provide some place for her to land easily within.

The wind picked up again, blowing at my hair. Something soft brushed past my face and I opened my eyes, looking to the side to avoid the powerful assault.

A feather landed in the snow, nearly vanishing, as it displayed the same hue as the frozen powder. The wind pushed at it, carrying it up and over the flakes then back down again. It floated over the cliff, to where it flew on its own. Free. Weightless.

It was free.

It was free, dancing beautifully in the sky.

A strange longing pulled at me, and I realized that I, too, wanted to be free. Wanted to be weightless and floating about on my own accord, with nothing holding me down so that I can spin free from the vice grip of the sorrow that held me down. 

I stood - ignoring the weakness in my knees, ignoring the numbness of my fingers and ears - and headed back into the cover of the bare trees.

I picked up the flower, pulled up its roots, and headed back home. Where I would place it around my beloved's grave, next to the many other flowers I have placed there over the past few days.

It will forever remain a source of warmth and strength.

And I will never go back here again.Just like that feather wouldn't ever float back up to the top of the cliff. I refused to walk up the mountain to the place where we had sat and watched the sun set so many times together. 

At least, without someone else standing kindly and loyaly by my side.

I was strong and free, light and able to carry myself forward and to another goal life had set up for me to pass. As long as hope continued to urge me on through the haze of grief and regret, that was.

And I will move on, just like the wind had hinted for me.

I will cope with his death. He won't linger in my mind accept for the lonesome nights where I need somebody next to me. All I will take from him now are the beautiful experiences and the words of love he had spoken to me, all the jokes and puns he whispered into my ear to see me smile and laugh.

The grief he caused me wouldn't deter my odyssey into the depths of life.

The wind whispered by my ear, his voice resounding as it bounded around the trees and recoiled against the mountain sides. 

Thank you.

I smiled, reveling in the breeze. Reveling in the sound of his voice for the last time. It was a sweet tune to my ears, and it gave me the extra strength needed to walked down the path and step into my future.

It gave me the strength to move on.

 

And I couldn't ever be more grateful.