Moving on, moving on. Everyone is moving on.
Except me.
I’m stuck here.
I know who I wished for.
Wehaveto have this,my heart said.
But we will not survive it,my head answered.
Both right.
I was scared of impermanence, of change and loss. But this—this me alone, nothing changing, no one left to lose—this is unbearable. I know what I have to do.
I can’t stay here anymore.
And there is only one way to leave.
I begin with the gorge that could break you.
130.
once, that night
JULY
what time do you need me there to help set up for the bonfire?
SYD
Alex and I have it covered
just come whenever
we’ve got it all figured out
all you have to do is show up
131.
now
In the gorge, you can see the layers of stone made over time. You can reach out and touch them.
You have layers over layers of memories in a place. There is the deepest layer, with the ones you love the most, or have the most memories with. Years and years and years.Maybe,you think,I’ll make new memories here with new people.Because you can’t give up the place entirely—it’s physically impossible, or emotionally.
And there you are, and both you and the place are layered, like wallpaper on top of wallpaper for centuries, and you’d have to peel everything away, you’d have to be the bare boards, no memories, nothing left. To get rid of some things, you’d have to get rid of everything.
So then you are. There you are. Living on.
A house with ghosts.
132.
once, that night
ELLA
