I can’t?—
I never use it?—
“What was his name?” she asks.
My mouth opens, but I can’t bring myself to say it.
“Say it,” she says.
I shake my head, sobs reappearing, breathing flattening.
My chest tightens.
I am running out of air.
“Say it,” she says again.
I scream out in a cry.
I feel backed into a corner.
I can’t breathe.
“Say it,” she says, grasping my face. She’s not letting it go.
“SIMON!” I scream at her. “HIS NAME WAS SIMON!”
And the moment I say it, heaviness falls from me.
I breathe in deep.
Air fills my lungs.
“Simon,” she says. “You loved Simon. Simon died. You loved El. El died. You are scared to love, because you are scared that everyone you love dies.”
“Yes,” I say, and tears that would fill an entire sea stream down my face.
“Yes,” she whispers and pulls my legs straight. I let her. reluctantly. She pulls away my protection.
She takes my hand.
Places it on her chest.
“Feel this?” she asks. “I am here. I am alive. I am not going anywhere.”
I feel her heart beating under my touch.
“And one day, you might not,” I say, “just like them.”
“And why would you deny yourself all the happiness in the world until then by living your life as if it already happened?” she asks, smiling at me.
I don’t have an answer to her question. Her. The woman I love. I don’t know if I will ever be without pain again. I don’t know if I will ever smile again, but I know that I love her.
I love her.
And while I do love her, I cannot say it.
The words won’t come over my lips.
