Page 3

TWO

DIA

"A bear remains a bear - even when most of him has fallen off or worn away." — Charlotte Gray

I pace the small space of my townhouse.

It’s like if I keep moving, I can outrun what happened.

My feet drag across the living room rug, down my hallway, into my bedroom, and then back in a weird loop.

I stop in the kitchen staring at a cracked tile by the cabinet.

I wonder when it cracked.

Possibly when I dropped the plate last night.

I thought I could maybe eat, then I realized every meal I will forever have will be without him and I let go.

Not just the plate, my heart.

I let go of my hope.

Of the illusion I can have it all.

I let all the pent up emotions explode around me.

My world shatters just like the plate each and every day without him.

I should get it fixed.

Maybe one day.

My eyes drift to the door, to the coat hooks beside it where his cut still hangs.

He never really wore it right.

Like it never gotten really broken in good.

He was new—green, learning the ropes—but he was so proud of it.

Even if the leather looked out of place on him, like it hadn’t yet molded to who he was, it was part of him, part of us.

His scent is still on my sheets, still in my clothes.

His presence is in every inch of my world.

The first tear falls, “God, this hurts,” I whisper, sinking to the floor as if I have been folded in half.

Skye, my rescue Dogo Argentino comes over lying beside me, dropping her head into my lap.

I squeeze her head in my hands lifting her eyes to look at me like she’s my only lifeline.

“I’m okay,” I lie.

She doesn’t believe me.

Neither do I.

I will never be okay again.

It isn’t supposed to be like this.

I was supposed to fall in love with someone normal.

I gave up on the illusion of a brother.

I had a taste of that heartache and didn’t want to feel it ever again.

It was supposed to be safe.

I tried.

I really did.

Benjamin Henderson was everything I never thought I could love.

He is or I should say was an IT tech at the community college, with a side business installing security systems.

He wore button down shirts with khaki pants or polos with jeans and tennis shoes on a casual day.

His hands were always soft and his eyes were always filled with sweetness.

The first time we went out, it was to prove to my brother I didn’t need him smothering me.

Toon left and I had been lost.

Months had gone by and the pain still consumed me.

How could he walk away from what we shared?

I still can’t wrap my head around it.

The passion between us is undeniable.

At first, it crushed me to know he went so far away, but honestly, I find myself thankful for it.

I don’t have to see him.

Out of sight makes it easier to tuck all things Justin Miller into a box and let the dust collect on his memories.

It killed me inside when he left me.

First loves do that to a girl.

BW was worried.

Karsci and Maritza got together making me a profile on a dating site.

Benji was supposed to be my rebound.

A simple dip my toe in the water of trying to see someone knew all while knowing my heart forever would belong to another man.

When they set the date, I refused to wear makeup, but I did agree to go.

Reluctantly.

At the small coffee shop, he was waiting at an outside table wearing a blue polo shirt, jeans, some white sneakers, glasses, and a baseball hat.

As I approached he stood up so fast his chair fell over.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered picking up the seat.

“You’re even prettier than the picture.”

I gave him a half laugh and rolled my eyes, “terrible pick up line, buddy. And you’re pretty too.” Way too pretty for my life, was my initial though.

He laughed it off.

I think he thought I was being as weird as him.

I wasn’t.

It was pure sarcasm.

He was awkward.

Nerdy.

But always kind, considerate, and truly present with me.

For the first time since Toon left, I could breathe and it was because of the goober in a blue shirt and too clean shoes.

The memory of him burns making the silence of my home seem even louder.

Benji used to fill this space.

With his constant humming, his late night Ramen experiments, his stupid jokes that always made me laugh even if they weren’t really that funny.

His delivery always made it hilarious.

Now I’m alone again.

Just me and Skye.

The grief won’t release me.

I stand in the kitchen looking around.

The coffee maker taunting me.

The grounds still in it from the last pot he made.

I can’t bring myself to empty it.

His favorite mug sitting beside it.

World’s Okayest Boyfriend.

A mug my brother got him when he began prospecting with the Hellions.

Something Benji did for me.

Everything he did was for me, for us.

I grip the counter and cry out, “I’m sorry.” I call out to no one.

“I’m so very sorry.”

The worst part I did everything right this time.

Yet, I was still his demise.

The guilt gnaws at me.

I thought I could have it all with Benji.

I didn’t chase the patch.

I didn’t chase the man who left and never looked back.

I didn’t beg anyone to stay.

I let go of the idea of the ride.

I built a life with Benji that wasn’t about the Hellions being in the center of it.

I chose the man with a steady job, who loved my dog (even though she was never nice to him), and me for me.

I chose the man not chasing a family or brotherhood, but the man who wanted to chase me.

Yet, still fate being the cruel bitch she is, punishes me.

He wasn’t supposed to be on the road that night.

He wasn’t supposed to die saving someone else’s kid.

He wasn’t ever supposed to be anyone’s hero, except maybe mine.

Now, though, that is reality.

His mother blames me.

Hell, I blame me.

He only learned to ride for me.

He prospected in order to be in my world.

Not once did he ever ask me to conform to his.

But my world, he embraced and like everything good, he was swallowed up in it.

His mom is right.

This is on me.

If he didn’t meet me, didn’t love me, he never would have been in that spot one week ago.

It was raining, he was on his bike coming home from a charity run.

He literally had split from the group not two miles before.

A car hydroplaned and flipped into the guard rail of this small bridge area.

Pulling over and jumping into action, Benji helped the mom out of her crumpled car.

Once she was safe on the shoulder of the road, he got her toddler from the backseat.

He got them both secured off the road and sat them down wrapping them in a blanket he kept in his saddlebags.

The woman said her phone and purse were in the car.

Benji went back for them.

He shouldn’t have.

If he would have stayed in place and waited on the ambulance he would be here with me.

The woman screamed as the car came up too fast, hydroplaned right where she did, but the drunk driver didn’t even try to slow down or react.

He slammed into her car throwing Benji eight feet into the air before landing in the middle of the road.

His spine shattered, hips just as bad, he blacked out.

When emergency services arrived, he had a pulse, it was weak.

Internal bleeding was happening without anyone knowing, but they assumed it, trying to stabilize him on the backboard to get in the ambulance.

Then they lost him.

For twenty minutes, they performed CPR.

With a shock, he was brought back to life.

Surgery to stop the bleeding began before me or his mother could even get to the hospital.

We didn’t know he had coded until after they got the bleed under control by removing his spleen.

It was too late.

The damage already done with the lack of oxygen to his brain, at least that’s what they say.

He has some brain waves, but not enough to sustain him, the doctors say.

Everything is out of control.

It’s all what they say, the doctors, nurses.

And I don’t know what to think.

I’m not in the medical profession.

How can I have the answers?

But how can they know without a doubt he won’t pull through?

Do they not believe in miracles?

I don’t know what to think.

I don’t want to give up hope.

After his mom kicked me out of the room and banned me from any decisions or being informed of anything I am left to ride the rollercoaster she put us on.

It’s been the hardest five days of my life hoping for a miracle.

This morning, though, his mom having the authority, had the machines removed.

He wasn’t strong enough yet to make it on his own.

Why couldn’t she give him just a little more time?

Give us some days to see if there is an improvement, or make peace with saying goodbye.

With a fight and some intervention (most likely of the intimidating variety) by my dad, his mom allowed me back in the room after the machines were unhooked.

As I laid in the hospital bed beside him, he took his very last breath.

His heart stopped and I shattered in a million pieces all over again.

He’s gone.

His mom calls him a saint.

The town calls him a hero.

I simply call him: mine.

My Benji.

The awkward one.

The goober who always forgot where he left his keys.

The one who couldn’t fold laundry to save his life, but damn if he didn’t try.

The man who made me believe I could be loved in the simple ways.

The man who taught me there is a life outside of the Hellions, even if it wasn’t the life I want to live.

The man without chaos.

He balanced me.

I stretch out on the floor, Skye presses close against me.

The floor is cold under me, but I don’t move.

I don’t want to move.

I don’t want to face reality.

If I move, it means time is passing.

That is the cruel thing about loss.

Every second gone is another moment since the last time he kissed me.

It’s more space between the last time I heard him say, “Dia, I love you, always.” How he always said it, ending in always.

From the first time to the last, he never stopped with a simple I love you, it was his thing to remind me it would be for always.

Except always isn’t long enough this time.

The level of heartache I feel for him is indescribable.

Is it easier when it’s expected?

I don’t know.

Grief is all consuming no matter how it comes about.

I don’t see this ever easing up.

My life is once again forever changed losing love.

He is a hole in my chest.

An ache I don’t know how to heal.

There is a new silence.

One I can’t bear.

Still, I breathe.

Because I have to.

Because he would want me to.

Because everyone expects me to.

This very moment though, I can’t see a future where I feel like me ever again.

I want him back.

Only I can’t have him.

Forever he will be this piece of me and I will never be whole again.