But as I’m writing this letter, I realize that that’s not what I want this to be about. I don’t want to say good-bye to you yet. Actually, I don’t want to say good-bye to you ever. I know that’s probably freaking you out right now, but it’s the truth. The idea of losing you is too much to handle. I want you in my life always, either as a friend or more. And I know you probably think I’m crazy. That we barely know each other and in a way you’re right. We do barely know each other, but at the same time I think we’ve been through more than the average person, which makes us able to understand each other more than a lot of people could. And I honestly can picture us one day down the road, super old and just hanging out, again as friends or more—your choice.
And if you’ve learned anything about me over the last year or so, it’s that I’m stubborn. When I want something, I sort of latch on to it. In fact, that habit can be a huge issue for me—the inability to let go. But that’s the thing. Everyone keeps telling me that I need to work on that and I know I do, but I don’t necessarily believe that I need to let go of everything. I can hold on to the things that are important to me. And one of those things is you. So even though you might not want to hear this, I’m not letting you go. I’m always going to be here for you no matter what.
Your friend forever,
Nova (like the car)
I stop reading it. She’s right. No matter what happens, I want Nova in my life. I never want to stop talking to her. Listening to her. I want her with me. I just need to make sure I create the sort of life that’s worthy of her being a part of. Can I do that for her? Let go and move forward toward a future with her? I glance around the room. Can I let all of this go for her?
Swallowing my nerves, I get up and circle around my room, taking in each sketch and drawing and feeling the powerful memories connected to them. How much time I spent drawing them or the moments captured within the photos. Then there’s my mom. I don’t want to say good-bye to any of this and maybe I don’t have to completely, but I can let go a little.
One step at a time.
Sucking up the full amount of strength I have in me, I start to take the photos and drawings down. One by one, holding them in my hands as if they were the most delicate things in the world. With each one that comes down, I feel different, as if I’ve stepped into someone else’s body, the body of someone I don’t know. Someone stronger, new. Reborn.
When I’m finished, I haven’t taken all of them down, but enough that they don’t overtake my room. There’s one photo of my mom in a rocking chair, her belly big because she is pregnant with me, and a photo of Lexi and me sitting on her back porch, posing for the camera. There’s also a sketch of her… one I drew a few days before she died. That one I hold on to to remind me of her, because I may be trying to let go, but forgetting her completely isn’t right. She deserves to be remembered, never forgotten. Despite the fact that I’m choosing life, I don’t have to break my promise to her.
“I’ll remember you forever,” I whisper to the air, wondering if she can hear me. “No matter what. I promise… but I think I have to let go just a little…”
By the time I’m done saying it, I’m crying. Tears pour down my face as I take in the bareness of my room, the past no longer overtaking my future, just a ghost, distant memories, and it hurts, yet there’s this strange freedom in the pain because I’m feeling it, not running away from it.
I’m starting to sob, tears choking me, refusing to stop flowing, when my phone starts ringing. It’s five o’clock in the morning and I wonder who the hell would be calling this early.
Quickly pulling myself together, I wipe my tears away, then lean over to pick up my phone and check the glowing screen. When I see Nova’s name on it, panic slams against me as I worry that something might be wrong. “Hey, is everything okay?” I ask as I quickly answer it, worried she’ll be able to tell I’ve been crying.
“No.” She sounds strange. Not necessarily sad, but like she’s repressing something… numbing her emotions. I hate hearing it in her voice and immediately want to fix it, my problems at the moment shrinking inside me.
“What happened?” I ask. God, please don’t let anything be wrong.
“A lot of stuff really, but I…” Her voice catches, her emotions on the verge of spilling out. “I have to tell you something and I need you not to get mad at me.”
“Okay… what is it?” I ask cautiously. She doesn’t say anything right away and I can hear a lot of commotion in the background. “Where are you?”
“At the airport.” She sounds guilty. “The Seattle airport.”
A bundle of emotions rush through me all at once and I almost hang up on her. Nova’s here. In Seattle. This is bad. Really bad. I’m not prepared for this. And I wanted to prepare myself for the first time I saw her again. Wanted to be completely stable instead of sobbing my heart out because I just took a bunch of photos of my old girlfriend down.
“You’re here. In Seattle. Seriously?” I can’t conceal my shock or the fact that I’m on the edge of crying again, just from reliving the memory of taking down the sketches and photos.
“I know you said you didn’t want me to come here,” she says, sounding upset. “But some stuff happened and I just… I just needed to get away from it all, so I packed up my bags and headed to the first place I could think of.”
“You made the decision to come here tonight?” I ask worriedly, not just because she’s sitting in the airport by herself, upset, but because something made her upset enough that she just took off. “Just up and left. Just like that.”
“Yeah. I just really needed to get away before my head exploded. And it was either go to you or have a meltdown.”
“How did you even get a flight?”
“It was a pain in the ass,” she promises me. “I was on a plane for six hours and normally it’s like a two-hour flight.”
“I bet.” I’m not sure what to say to her because I’m still attempting to process that she’s here. Only miles away. “Are you just sitting at the airport now?”
“Yeah… I’m trying to figure out what to do next,” she says miserably. “I know what I want to do and that’s flag a taxi down and come see you, but I totally get it if you don’t want me to do that.”