When I went to put it back, the tickets to Green Gables that Trey had given me fell out of it. I had kept them as a memento of one of the most beautiful days of my life.
I’d lived in a haze those past few months, like a machine, focused only on breathing, eating, sleeping, and working, keeping myself alive… But that was over, the spell had broken, and now I couldn’tstop thinking, remembering. And I wanted to scream. To scream until my voice was gone. To scream out all my frustration and impatience. To scream because I wanted to live.
I put the tickets back inside the book and closed the box, then went back to pour my coffee and sat in front of the computer intending to write all afternoon. At night, I’d go to my grandmother’s old home and keep guard in front of her door.
It was a waste of time, I knew.
I was starting to think a ghost had moved in there, or an invisible man.
I could hear the clock:tick-tock,tick-tock,tick-tock.
I toyed with my pendant and tried to concentrate on the blank page, watching the cursor blink hypnotically.
I needed an ending. A good one. Something believable, something fully ripe, something that would leave a mark.
I thought and thought, and poured myself another coffee, hoping to find answers in the last sip. But there was nothing there, and when I finished it, my stomach ached.
Doubts appeared, insecurities. Maybe there was too much of myself in the story, and that’s why I couldn’t come up with a happy ending. But a sad one just wouldn’t do. I already had a sad ending with Trey, and what are books for if not to dream of something better?
Eventually, I realized it wasn’t coming to me. I just couldn’t put the words together and make them mean something. My mind had traveled elsewhere, very far away from there.
I couldn’t stop thinking of Trey and how stupid I’d been to give him up. I regretted so much having ruined our relationship… I failed him when he gave his all for us, and it killed me to think that I could never tell him how sorry I was and that I’d do anything to be with him again. Not that I had a right to—to burst into his life and start overturning things now that he’d managed to rebuild it with another girl.
And it wasn’t fair to her, either.
Damned empathy! Why was it so hard for me to just be a selfish bitch like so many others?
I put some music on to distract myself and opened the windows. The breeze shook the curtains and it smelled slightly of ozone. Thunder rumbled far away. A storm was coming.
That just brought me more memories.
I took a carton of ice cream out of the fridge and sat on the fire escape. I needed to clear my head, and chocolate almost always did the trick.
I could hear the rain hitting the roof before I felt it on my bare arms. The wind made the trees bend and blew wet dead leaves across the ground. The blanket of gray clouds lit up, and a loud crackle followed.
The storm struck the city with force, dark and beautiful at the same time. But all I could think of was that other woman who now stood between Trey and me. I remembered that first night, when I almost beat him with a candlestick, and I couldn’t help but laugh. How we’d pretended we couldn’t stand each other when we were dying to tear off each other’s clothes.
I wished I could go back to that moment and start over. But miracles and time travel didn’t exist. I’d lost him, because I was an idiot.The only thing worth regretting is not saying or doing what you feel.I was about to bite down on another spoonful of ice cream when I remembered those words from my mother’s letter, and for a moment, I thought someone had whispered them in my ears.
And maybe she did. Maybe her spirit spoke to me in that moment, and it was just the motivation I needed.
My heart started pounding. Something changed inside me. All the pieces of my mind were now working, moving together in rhythm, but taking off in a different direction. And I understood what those words truly meant.
I did feel remorse—how could I not have? It hurt worse than any torture. And yet, in a way, I had been wrong. I was regretting the wrong things—my actions in the past—when I should have been regretting what I was doing now, like sitting on my ass on the stairs pitying myself because I had a broken heart.
And changing the way I looked at things changed the entire picture.
I dropped the carton of ice cream, hurried inside, and started to write.
The words flowed out of me like water, and I couldn’t stop, the phrases absorbed me, one after the other and on to the next page, thinking of nothing but the scenes as they unfolded in my head. And time kept flying by faster and faster.
Hours passed, dawn broke just as I was typing the last word, and I followed it up with three periods…
I looked up from the screen with a smile on my face. Fulfilled. Euphoric. Then I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I just needed one more thing. And magically, it appeared. The perfect title.
I scrolled back to the first page and typed:
You And Other Natural Disasters
