Character names are the property of Stephenie Meyer.  Thank you Stephenie for creating them--like I need a new obsession!

Bella doesn’t understand how it has come to this. 

 

The thought comes to her while taking out the trash.  In some odd way, she has always measured the passing of weeks by garbage and recycling.  Renee never paid attention to unpleasant household tasks, so it always fell to Bella.  As she grew older, she would wonder, Where has another week gone? Didn’t I just put out the garbage yesterday?  She felt like an old woman thinking such things but she thought them just the same as she sorted out the cans, newspaper and plastic.  There was some odd comfort to the task—she was banishing the house of clutter, yet also saving a little piece of the earth.  Though not as enjoyable as cooking, she did find satisfaction in her duty and took over the chore when she moved to Charlie’s.

 

            It is twilight.  Her eyes are becoming accustomed to the waning light as she sorts. Cans cans cans paper plastic paper paper plastic cans.  Hauling the last load to the curb, it occurs to her that this will be the last time she will do this chore.  Not only the last time in this house, but probably the last time ever.  What could vampires possibly have to recycle, to throw away?  There may be the odd accumulation of paper, or some garbage after Esme refinishes another room.  There would probably be some debris after a ‘game’ gone wrong between two brothers, their play taking a toll on a piece of home décor that was not meant to withstand two walls slamming into it during an impromptu wrestling match. 

 

What will mark the days, the weeks?  Bella begins to see that there will be little need to measure time anymore.  Though there are clocks and calendars throughout the Cullen house, they are merely markers of human time.  Carlisle uses them to tell him when to go to work and they may need them one day when they return to school, years from now.  But there will no longer be any routine or rituals to bind her to a humanity she thought she didn’t want. 

 

            It takes Bella half an hour to make it back to the front door from the curb as she begins to measure time in breaths. 

 
*

Charlie doesn’t understand how it has come to this. 

 

            Charlie knows that Bella is taking out the garbage, sorting the recycling.  She has always done this and he is not one to complain about relinquishing a chore he only did out of necessity.  It feels like she has been gone for a long time, but he is so immersed in the game that he can’t say for sure how long she has been outside.  But he knows for a fact that she returns between the 5^th and 6^th innings.  He knows this because time stops when he looks up, her face dragging him back into a reality he has tried so very hard to forget.

 

It wasn’t a year ago yet that he thought he’d lost her.  Yet this isn’t the same catatonic look that had masked her face for a week after Edward had left.  Nor is it the empty and painful look of forced living she had tortured herself with for months after that.  This look is almost nineteen years old.  It is the look on Renee’s face when she had realized that there was more life to live than the one she had been living.  It is the same look that still comes to Charlie in his sleeping hours.  It always ends the same way, Renee driving away with an infant Bella, Charlie rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do.

 

This is a look that Charlie knows well, and, at long last, he knows how he can act on it. 

*
 

Billy doesn’t understand how it has come to this.

 

            How could Charlie have the nerve to call and ask him?  How dare he throw their friendship in his face, proclaiming that the happiness of his daughter rested on his shoulders now.   Has he no idea of the havoc that girl has wreaked on his son or the community by the choices she’s made?    

 

Billy knows that there is no real way for Charlie to know these things.  He knows that Charlie is grasping at straws himself, twisted by the fear of losing the last thing that matters to him.  He couldn’t grasp how close he is to really losing her forever but maybe, on some level, he did. 

 

Billy has a hard time these days understanding love.  He doesn’t remember it being so complicated, so fraught with strife.   He could recall, with some difficulty, being young once.  Young and foolish.  How those two go hand and hand.  And he had daughters.  He knew how fickle the heart could be.  Truth be told, he was relieved when they had moved away before they were in any real relationships.  He wasn’t sure he could go through the teenage female angst.  Yet Jacob had more than made up for what he missed with his daughters.  Moody, tortured, carrying around a love unrequited. So very much in love and, now, so far away from home.  

 

Bella had left Jacob broken.  She’d left him broken from a fight with the vampires, yet Billy knew that he would heal.  She’d left him broken by a choice, and Billy wasn’t sure that Jacob could come back from it.  But the pleading in Charlie’s voice mirrors his own silent pleading to a son who has run far from home to keep from being found.

 

Billy decides that, for both of them, he is going to try. 

 
*

Sam doesn’t understand how it has come to this.

 

             The images still come to him, taunting and haunting him.  He lifts a crumpled figure from the ground but she fights him and runs away further into the dark, past the boundary of where Sam is permitted to go.  She walks the line silently, back and forth, back and forth, a shell of who she used to be.  Sam begs her to come to him, promising to take her away from this, to protect her. She merely shrugs and fades back into the night, ochre eyes hovering in the blackness until they disappear, a new moon and shrouded skies removing all traces of light from the abyss.

            He had saved Bella that night, yet she chose to go back.  They fought for her, one of their own wounded, yet still she chose them.  Sam couldn’t understand it and refused to try.  Couldn’t she see wrath that the simple presence of the Cullens had brought to their tribe?  He and nine others were ripped from the safety and the joy of their ordinary lives and forced into the role of protectors for who knows how long.  The rest of our lives, no doubt he screams inwardly.  Bella had chosen to recede into the night with the very monsters that now plagued Sam’s waking and unwaking thoughts. 

 

            He doesn’t realize until it is too late that the order he gives to the pack will be too vague.

 
*

Edward doesn’t understand how it has come to this.

 

            Alice is sitting on the couch, her trance-like state striking her curiously quiet.  It isn’t the absence of words that breaks Edward’s concentration, but his inability to see anything in her mind.    There is no indication of what she is seeing or thinking—no images, no fleeting words, no faces swirling around.  There is only nothingness.

 

Odd, he thinks.  It doesn’t have the same feel as her trying to prevent him from reading her mind as she had so often lately, trying to keep a few wedding details a surprise.  She usually covered these thoughts with annoying songs and translations of obscure literature into equally as obscure languages.  This is unsettlingly different.

 

 He can tell from her posture, her expression that she is trying to ‘see’ the future.  He is unable to tell whose future she is trying to read.  Edward racks his mind for an explanation of the white silence of his sister’s thoughts.  As the reason slowly creeps into Edward consciousness, he quickly tries to banish it.  He tries to find some other justification, come to any other conclusion.  He wants to erase all traces of the thought from his mind, wants to go back five minutes in time to the moment he still had a future.

 

A small, sad cry from Alice as she emerges from vision of a future that doesn’t include him makes Edward realize that there is no going back. 

* 

  

Leah understands how it has come to this.

 

            Leah understands what it is like to be hopelessly in love with someone you know you can’t have.  She has allowed her grief over the loss of Sam to petrify and settle in jagged layers.  She has tried to chip it away, smooth the edges, but every day that she watches Sam look at Emily or catches fleeting thoughts of her in their collective mind, it only adds another layer and Leah is getting tired of paring it away. No, she cannot fault Jacob—no matter how much she may chide him for his constant stream of thoughts on Bella.  Leah and Jacob are in the same boat, and it seems to be sinking.

 

Leah understands what Edward will go through.  Having lived it already, she knows what he will think, how the heartache will feel, the denial.  If circumstances were different, if he and she were different people, she would go to Edward.  She would try to comfort him, though she knows there is little comfort to be had. He, at least, has the option of leaving this town and never coming back, never needing to look back.  He is not bound to this small speck of Earth by duty.  She hopes that he may find happiness again somewhere.  He can search the earth to find it.  Leah is on a short leash trying to find hers.

           

Most surprisingly of all, Leah best understands Bella.  She is angry with her for hurting a ‘brother’, for choosing the Cullens over them, for having to go to war for her.  All of these feelings aside, Leah has no choice but to understand her.  She has heard the residue of Jacob’s conversations with Bella and the conversations Seth overheard before the fight.  Bella needs Edward.  Leah doesn’t know how the pack cannot grasp the idea—it mimics the idea of imprinting. 

 

 Imprinting is like an undertow. You’re standing solidly, sure of everything when it comes along and pulls you under.   No matter how you try to fight it, it will pull you down and take you with it.  You are swept into a sea of longing and eventually and you have no will to rise.  You grow gills and learn to breathe underwater.  You might even forget what the air above the water is like.

 

Bella will always need Edward in a way, their connection unbreakable.  But Bella will be able to compartmentalize this need.  She’ll be able to box it up and sink it beneath the current.  She’ll do this because she finally recognizes how bound she is to this place—to her friends, her family, her life.  She’s bound by a love that is rooted in the things she cares for most, a love born of friendship and tied to the real world.

 

From her vantage point, Leah can see that Bella has broken the surface and has begun the long swim back, hoping like hell that Jacob will be standing on the shore waiting for her. Leah silently encourages from the sidelines because she knows that, no matter who fate determines she should be with, no matter who she imprints on, Leah would use every last breath to swim against that current if she knew Sam would be on the shore waiting for her.

 

Leah books a flight to bring Jacob home to the beach.

 

Special thanks to those who said that it was not possible to write only 1 fan fic--you were right!.  And thank you for all of your kind comments on the last one.

Bella and Jacob are property of Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight Series.
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It is amazing what the mind can recall—the information that hides in the folds and buzzes around for so long that you believe you have forgotten it, until it works its way free at obscure times.  Like knowing the lyrics to a kid’s song that you’ve always hated, even as a kid, yet you can sing it word for word.  Or knowing that words like kayak and radar are palindromes and are the same both forwards and backwards.  Who knows things like this?  Who needs to? 

   
         Random knowledge can come in handy on occasion.  To appear smarter than you know you are, you can spurt off these facts.  Some may look at you in awe, asking how do you know such things?  And you may simply smile and say, I am in the know.  Others may look at you with sidelong glances, wondering why someone would want to know such things, do you not have enough to do in your life that you need to fill it with little known facts?   Then there are those opportune times, particularly while playing trivia games when you can say with ease that you know that the word ‘Tuktoyaktuk’ is an Inuit word for ‘resembles a caribou’.  Or that you know, for a fact, that a wolf’s temperature runs at 108.9 degrees.  You may win your team the game and you will be toasted with a round of Cokes.  Or these thoughts may just ring around in your head and invade the quiet moments when you are trying to think of anything else other than what a wolf’s temperature might be.

       
      Here, in this quiet moment, there is no one around to impress with my knowledge. It barely impresses me.  Thoughts of Pi wander into my mind.  There is no reasoning behind this--just a residual math class lesson easing it’s way out of my subconscious and into the forefront.  I think of Pi, it’s meaning.   There is no end to the numbers past 3.14.   It goes on forever.  What does that mean word mean, forever?  Eternally, evermore, ceaselessly, perpetually, without end?  How can I fathom such a number, such a concept?

   Forever is the promise that millions make each year in front of witnesses.  They make the promise, yet how few will make it to their own tangible forevers, hand in hand?  My own parents made such a pledge, letting it unravel too soon after the words were spoken and now I am sitting on a large piece of driftwood on a Treatied beach pondering forever because, in a few short hours, I am about to make the same vow.  Yet I have only now realized that this forever will be literal.  How could I have grasped it before, with only 18 years having passed around me? 

   I continue to turn the word around in my mind.  Staring out into the ocean, surveying the landscape, I recognize that this spot, here, is forever.  The ocean may reclaim this one spot, or it may recede, becoming choked with trees.  Rocks may crumble from nearby cliffs and crash into the same spot I chose to throw myself into.  Yet this place is forever.  It will continue to change, revolve, evolve.   This forever is simple, beautiful, natural.  

   The translucent skin of an ancient, far off vampire permeates my thoughts.  A vivid image of forever, it is a haunting, brittle shale picture of what forever will soon mean to me.  I, too, will look like this, giving up everything to become it over a fathomless timespan.  In all of the time it will take me to watch my skin turn paper-thin, I could try to reach the end of Pi with all efforts ending in vein.  But I will reach the end of the lives of everyone I once claimed to love. I’ll become an invisible witness, forced to watch them fade away into a hereafter I will probably never know.  I will watch them fade, then watch their tombstones crumble into nothing.  It will always be like this as I become a voyeur, watching humans begin and end, begin and end, begin and end.  I’ll walk around them, amongst them and in the spaces in between, but never with them.  But I will have pi.  Pi will keep me going.  Surely there must be an end to it, and I will have all of the time in the world to find it.

     Another ending follows the waves into shore and crashes into my thoughts.  It is the wrinkling of a beautiful, russet-skinned boy who is not aging now, but will some day.  Life will carve niches into his skin, especially around his mouth where a smile that will always be mine lives.  With each grey strand, his hair will display a lifetime of lessons learned.  It could mirror my own change, if only I would let it.  Forbidden thoughts churn in my mind--the image of my body entwined with his, and the thoughts of us both returning to the dust one day.  Abruptly, the picture of forever comes in startlingly, brilliantly, beautifully clear.  I know exactly how long forever is.  It is the amount of time I am willing to wait here on this beach for a boy to come back home and throw his   108.9-degree arms around me. 

 

           

Disclaimer--don't I wish I could have written Twilight!  The characters located here within are the property of Stephenie Meyer. 

          
  I awake one night, a week after the invitations went out.  I can barely catch my breath, my arms and my chest sore, as though a giant elastic band has snapped back on them.  I realize then that Jacob is gone—stretched himself so far away from me that he is no longer attached and I sob myself back to fitful sleeps, grateful that Edward is out somewhere in the dark hunting so that I can mourn without guilt. 

 

            There is a fury of ribbon, tulle, flowers and an assortment of wedding paraphernalia strewn about the Cullen household.  Esme, Rosalie and Alice are tying candies into tulle, rolling their eyes when I ask who would possibly care if they got candy at a wedding.

‘Thank God you have me, “ said Alice.  “I know it is a small wedding, but it will still be tasteful and you will thank me some day!”  Rosalie and Esme laughed knowingly.  I glanced over to Jasper, Emmet and Edward messing around in the next room, trying on tuxedos.  Must be nice not to have to do anything but show up and say ‘I do’.  Not that I have been much help in the whole wedding mess.  Trying to feign some interest, I had looked at catalogues, flowers, tablecloths and more colour schemes than I thought existed.

 I had tried to be a trooper, but I still felt uncomfortable about the wedding, with absolutely no encouragement on the homefront about the whole situation.  It appeared as though Charlie was going to have a stroke when we broke the news, despite his newfound respect for Edward.  Renee wasn’t much better, threatening to drag me to Jacksonville for a while to ‘straighten me out’.  It took a lot of talking and cajoling, and smoothing around the edges, but everyone was still talking to each other, but only barely at Charlie’s house.

Alice thrust a stack of papers under my nose. 

“Could you please pick out some readings for the ceremony?” she asked in a sweetly demanding tone.

“I thought you were keeping it short and sweet,” I lamented.  “You know, ‘I do’ and you may now kiss the bride.”  Her laughter rang out like a song.

“Surely you know me better than that by now Bella.”  Truly, I should have.  Sighing heavily, I leafed through the stack.  Too sweet,  too old, too modern, too lovey dovey.  Where did she get these from?  One caught my eye and I couldn’t help but smile at the ending.

 

Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours

For one lone soul another lonely soul,

Each choosing each through all the weary hours,

And meeting strangely at one sudden goal,

Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers,

Into one beautiful and perfect whole;

And life’s long night is ended, and the way

Lies open onward to eternal day.

 

Edwin Arnold

 

Meeting strangely, night ending and eternal day made the whole piece seem fitting.  I put that on the ‘keeper’ pile.  Skimming a few more pages, I almost threw the rest down in disgust until one more caught my eye.

 

I must conquer my loneliness alone.

I must be happy with myself

Or I have nothing to offer.

Two halves have little choice but to join

And, yes, they do make a whole,

But two wholes, when they coincide,

That is the beauty of love.

 

My breath caught in my throat.  Tears welled behind my eyes, but I refused to set them free here.  Alice’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing at me. “What’s wrong Bella?”

Edward was by my side before I could even turn my head.  I couldn’t be sure what she was thinking to Edward, but her face was terse and Edward glared at her.  Turning to me he announced, “Wedding fun is over for today.”  Ushering me out of the house, I could feel the confused looks the rest of the Cullens shot my way while Edward put me into his Volvo to take me home. 

            The silence was palatable.  Glancing over at Edward’s face, I let out the breath I had been holding.  He had a look on his face that I couldn’t quite place.  Expecting anger, sadness, regret, expecting some kind of emotion, I was unable to read the slight smile on his face, like he knew what was going on in my head.  But how could that be?  I didn’t even know what caused me to react that way.  Edward didn’t ask and I didn’t feel compelled to tell him, because what was there to say right at this moment?  How could I tell him that I suddenly realized I was half a person—not even whole, unsure if I had ever been a whole person at all in what seemed like only a handful of years that I had been alive. 

            Was I happy with myself?  Could I be alone?  Shame crept across my face, leaving red welts when I recalled my reaction to Edward leaving me last year.  I couldn’t function, I had to let someone else pick up the pieces.  I had been even more pathetic since Edward’s return, begging him not to leave, to stay during the fight because I couldn’t bear for anything to happen to him—I couldn’t bear to be alone. 

            “Would you like to tell me what you are thinking now?” Edward asked, his smile gone when he saw the look on my face.  I couldn’t even look him in the eye. I was disgusted with myself. 

“I need to think for a little bit. Alone.”  I stumbled on the words, unable to speak straight, unsure how to explain my thought process on this one.  I knew if I were to try and explain, he would do his best to brush it aside, assure me that I was everything to him and that I was just a little nervous.  Or maybe he wouldn’t say anything at all.  Perhaps he would stare at me, right through me and I couldn’t bear that look right now.  Edward brought his face close to me and lightly kissed my forehead, then brought up my chin so I had no choice but to look in his eyes.

 

Hoping no one would come to greet me, I got out of the truck at LaPush and headed straight to ‘our’ tree stump.  I knew, I could feel, that Jacob was no longer here, but I thought this spot would help me to see things a little more clearly.

            Staring at the ocean for what seemed like hours didn’t seem to help anything.  I recited that poem in my head again and again, realizing, no matter how I looked at it, I was half a person.  I had been so tied up in Edward and wanting to ‘join’ his family, planning for the issues that would arrive after the change, I had already stopped living.  I did little without him or the members of his family.  His interests had become mine, and some of mine seemed to be creeping into his.  Trying to think back to the time before I had come to Forks, I tried to remember what I used to do for fun.  It seemed so long ago, having been through so much in a year and a half. I had trouble remembering.  Reading was always top on my list, but there were movies with friends, and I couldn’t help but remember watching some football games in the name of school spirit.  I wasn’t overly involved in school activities, and kept myself out of trouble, watching out for Renee.  I found myself hard pressed to think of much of what I used to do. 

            I closed my eyes and pictured myself having a day to myself.  Right here, right now.  What would I do?  Try as I might, Edward would not leave my thoughts.  He was with me at the bookstore, the movies, walking, at my house.  Not good, I thought.  I cannot separate myself in my daydream.  How could I hope to do it in real life?

            Picking up a piece of driftwood, I drew a circle in the sand.  I drew a half circle attached to it.  It looked awkward.  I drew two circles together—it became the symbol of eternity.  I drew many many circles on the beach.  From the corner of my eye, I saw Sam approach me.  I felt half crazed, standing there, my face streaked with tears, my voice breaking as I asked him,

 

            Edward was, of course, horribly understanding.  I cannot wonder if he was secretly thrilled that I would remain human for a while longer.  He knew of my plan, Alice having seen it.  I tried my best to explain it, tell him that it was all for him, because it was.  I couldn’t join him as half a person.  I had to be whole too.  It was the only gift I could give him.  He teasingly called me foolish (as I knew he would).  He said that I completed him as I was, and he required nothing more.  But he also said that he understood and was happy to keep me whole.  I could barely stand myself—I asked him if he would miss me? 

“Of course, love.  Of course.” And he kissed me in such a way that I couldn’t help but believe it.   He knew I would return to him.  Otherwise, how could he let me go?

            Charlie was beside himself when I told him what I wanted to do.  He couldn’t understand how I was going to get married in one breath, then leave to ‘find myself’ in the next.  I think he secretly believed it was Edward’s fault I was leaving.  Explaining myself again helped some, and Charlie conceded to help me.  Though it was definitely not my first or even tenth choice of places to live, he had a friend who had retired to Denver and owned a bookstore with an apartment on top. A job and an apartment in one fell swoop.  I certainly couldn’t turn that down.   I was also able to placate his concerns about not attending college this year when I assured him I would take some night classes to see what truly interested me. 

            Looking at Edward one last time before I boarded the plan, I almost backed out.  He looked at me, smoldering, encouraging me and I couldn’t help but feel it would be okay.  Though Alice was not happy with me for canceling the wedding, I knew she would continue to look out for me in her thoughts.  Edward planned to go to Dartmouth while I was away.  I assured him it would only be for a short time.  I didn’t know if I could bear to go longer than a day without speaking to him, let alone the length of time it would take me to find myself.   Although he balked slightly at that condition, he knew, as well as I, that I would be on a plane back to him if I heard his voice.  He agreed, though I secretly believed he would personally be keeping tabs on me. 

 

 

            The first 3 months were hell.  I called Charlie and Renee all the time to talk—I was afraid I would break down and call Edward.  I also spoke with Angela a few times and Mike once.  They were busy at school and I felt a little left out, though they thought it was ‘cool’ that I was taking a year off.  I couldn’t help but wonder if being attached to Edward’s side at school had kept me from being a better friend. 

The apartment was small but it had a full size kitchen and was right downtown.  It was great to roll out of bed and walk downstairs to work.  I signed up for a bunch of part time courses at a local college.  I had no idea what I wanted to learn, so I took a myriad of courses, including art, creative writing, photography, psychology and business.  I really enjoyed psychology and creative writing (boy did I have stories to write!) and was becoming pretty adept at photography.  I had begun a journal for writing class writing down everything I thought, the reason behind this journey, my fears, what I discovered.  Though I didn’t write it specifically to Edward, I thought it would make a great wedding gift, an explanation of myself so that he could finally ‘read’ my thoughts. 

            As part of my ‘journey’, I decided to make a list of the things that I feared the most and attempt to conquer them—perhaps they were what was holding me back from feeling like a complete person.  It was a little new-ageish to me, and I began to think I had been reading too many of Renee’s self help book cast offs.  However, I was desperate to make myself whole in a short amount of time, so my list began.

1. Being alone—conquered that one so far
2. Not knowing who I am—also on the path to discovery.  This was seemingly easy.
3. Having to be saved by others.  Hmm.  Considering all that had happened to me in the last year or two, I had no choice but to be saved at times.  I decided that it was time for me to learn to take care of myself.
4. Sports/Gyms –How could I not be afraid of these when I couldn’t walk a straight line?  I would need help on this one.
5. Ageing—I can’t believe I wrote that one down.  But it is true.  Being surrounded by beautiful, ageless vampires could take a toll on self esteem, so I was going to have to work on this one really hard.

Since the first 2 things on my list were under control, I decided I could combine 3 and 4 by joining a gym. There were a few girls in my psychology class that belonged to a local gym, and they encouraged me to join with them.  None of the looked overly athletic, so I felt less threatened about joining.   Thankfully, Charlie’s insurance was still applicable for me, as there was an incident on the elliptical trainer that involved a sprained ankle.  That was it for machines for me.   I did learn that I was somewhat capable in the pool, able to do strokes in my own time.  We took weight training for women and I was able to use the hand weights without hurting myself or others.  I refused the strip aerobics class, but somehow, they talked me into kickboxing class.  There was a great deal of coordination involved and when my lack of it was apparent, the instructor spent some extra time with me, and, in time, I improved.  I was not ready to compete or even try my skills out in the ring, but I felt that I could take care of myself if the situation arose (well, unless it involved vampires or werewolves.  That was another story.)   Another 2 fears conquered!

            Going to the gym with friends was great.  Eventually, I had become friends with a few coworkers, and some other classmates.  It was so oddly normal.  I didn’t look over my shoulder to ensure that rogue vampires were not out to get me.  I went to cafes and concerts and other people’s houses and laughed and ate and felt happy.  We held rotating dinner parties, though my apartment seemed the favourite place since I could cook more than hot dogs and mac and cheese.  I spent time alone and made plans to do things by myself.  I walked, shopped and bike rode by myself (though always on the path and with a helmet.  No point in tempting fate.)  The feeling of bike riding always made me think of running with Edward.  Though I was nowhere near as fast, there was nothing like the wind on my face.

            I missed Edward and his family terribly.  I ached to call and see how everything was, but I knew my resolve would crumble at ‘Hello’.  Though he never left a trace of evidence, I suspect Edward visited me from time to time.  My dreams were regular dreams now, much less restless, but every so often I would awake and my forehead or my hand would be radiating a cool feeling that disappeared quickly after waking.  It felt like one of Edward’s kisses and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had been here.

           

            Seven months into my self discovery (still sounds a little too new ageish to me), I realized it was time to face my fear of ageing.  I rented several movies of Hollywood’s ‘over 40’ powerful women.  They were still making it big, and looked fantastic.  Though Diane Keaton was 60 and fabulous, I couldn’t picture her with someone who looked Edward’s age.  The thought seemed somewhat absurd.  Demi Moore’s relationship with Ashton Kutcher did settle me some though. 

            Trying to think back to where my concerns with getting older laid, other than beautiful ageless vampires, I realized I hadn’t really been with many older people throughout my life.  There were sporadic visits with grandparents, but they had all passed away by the time I was 12.  This was still turning around in my mind when I walked past a senior’s residence.  Marching in the front door before I had the chance to lose my nerve, I asked how I could become a volunteer. 

            Though I was apprehensive for a few weeks, I began to see how rich in history these individuals were.  The stories they had to tell were incredible!  I began to write some of my favourites down and would then take their portrait.  They were thrilled when the nurses began posting their stories and pictures on the boards for everyone to read. 

 

            I sat down to write in my journal (actually my 4^th journal—apparently I had a lot to talk about while looking for myself) when I flinched after writing down the date.  I had arrived a year today.  I scrambled to think—how could that be?  How could a year have gone by already?  I started a new list in my book—a list of everything I had done, all I had accomplished.  It was a long list.  When I wrote my last words, I felt one end of  my circle join the other.  I felt whole.  This was how it felt to be content and happy with myself.  To know that I could be on my own and I would live, and live well. 

     
       Realizing the time, I ran (well, walked quickly)  from my apartment to the seniors’ residence.  I was meeting with Gracie today, one of my favourites.  She had a million and one tales to tell and loved having me to tell them to.  I stopped short before entering the building, becoming conscious of the fact that it was time to call Edward.  Sitting on the stairs to catch my breath, I put my head between my knees to keep from fainting.  What was wrong with me?  Why wasn’t I thrilled and on the phone to him right now?  I was ready.  Wasn’t I?

         Slowly making my way to Gracie’s room, I could see she was waiting patiently.  I glanced to her dresser—it was crammed with photos—husband, children, grand and great grand children.  Here was someone who had lived, who knew things.  And suddenly, it occurred to me that she might help me sort out my new-found nerves.

“How did you know your husband was the one for you?” I asked, quickly realizing I had asked the wrong question.  I knew 

Edward was the one for me.  I had spent a year waiting to become an equal to him.  Why did I ask that? Gracie chuckled and patted the chair beside her. 

“It is a fairly simple story,” she began.  “It begins with a love so intense that I swear it burned me to touch him.  How beautiful he was—all the girls were jealous.  How I loved to look at him and how I loved him.  And he loved me.  He told me at every opportunity.  He was everything to me, and I to him.”  I smiled knowingly, my heart leaping a little and settling.  I planned to call Edward right after I was finished with Gracie.

“Alex was an incredible man.  I could do no better.”  I whipped my eyes over to Gracie.  She laughed at my reaction.

“But your husband’s name was Peter,” I stammered, confused.

Gracie laughed again and continued on.  “That is true, now let me finish.”  I nodded for her to continue.

“As I said, I could do no better, ask for no more than a man like Alex.  So when the doubt began to creep in, I tried to shove it aside.  What was there to doubt?  We loved each other, and, having courted for 6 months, were planning on getting married in 2 months.  I know it sounds quick, but many marriages began that way in my time.  Some began after only a few short weeks.”  I shook my head at the impossibility of it.

“I realized how different I was with Alex.  I began to see myself as doe-eyed around him, seeing nothing but him, taking interest only in what he wanted to do.  I lost who I was.  I assumed that love was like that.”  My stomach began turning and I implored her to continue.

“My best friend was a boy my age two farms over.  Our families had always been close and there weren’t many girls my age at our small school, so we spent a great deal of time together growing up.  Once he came of age, he turned his thoughts and attention toward running the farm, trying to expand it and pay off his family’s land.  I could always talk to him about anything, and he confided in me more times than we could count.  I went to visit him and we sat at his small kitchen table while I poured out all of my thoughts, my doubts, and a large amount of tears to him.  I looked up from the table when I had finished speaking and felt a jolt of shock run through me.  He sat across the table, looking at me with such love that I couldn’t fathom it.  How could that be?  We were friends, friends!  How could he look at me that way?  I knew I was a mess from crying and it came to me in a flash.  He had seen me at my worst, not just this day but many times before.  He had seen me at my best and all of the moods in between.  I was myself with him and he accepted it.  I didn’t have to be anyone but me, and I suddenly remembered that I liked me!  I was funny and smart and a hard worker.  With that one look from him, I rediscovered myself in his eyes, and well…..Peter and I married within the month. And we were married for 57 years, until he passed.”  Gracie closed her eyes and smiled, lost in thoughts of a wedding day so long ago.

I exhaled, unaware how long I had been holding my breath for.  My mind swam with an odd mix of confusion and comprehension.  I hesitated before asking, knowing it was none of my business, but dying of curiosity. 

“And what happened to Alex?” I asked quietly.  Gracie’s eyes opened and she smiled lightly.

“What could he do?  He was such a gentleman.  He said he understood, but I could see the sadness.  I felt horrible, absolutely awful that I would do that to anyone.  I tore myself up over it for days until I understood that I was going to live a long life, and I had to live with myself first and foremost through all of it.  I had to choose me over everything else.”

“So that was your happily every after?”  I teased.  Gracie turned serious.

“Child, there is no such thing as happily ever after.  There are good time, great times and then there are hard times.  Some you create yourself, and some that just happen to innocent people.  There are fights, some unkind thoughts and perhaps some quiet moments hours or days where neither will bend to the other.  But you will work your way through it.  Love is work.  Hard work and that is why you need to be with someone willing to work with you, not save you or do it for you.  Be with the person you are yourself with.  Love the person you are willing to live with.  Really live, down in the dirt, covered in life with.  That is who you’ll find true happiness and love with.”  She smiled a tired smile and rose from her chair, slowly making her way to the bed.  Pointing to a picture in a weathered frame, she beckoned me to bring it to her. 

“For you.” She said simply.  I looked at the picture.  It was sepia coloured and obviously quite old.  Two figures stood in a field.  They were too far away to see their faces, but you could see their arms around each other,  faces turned towards the other.  I tried to give it back, telling her that her children would want it.  Gracie refused, saying they all had their copies and that this would go with the story she knew I would write.  I smiled and kissed her softly on the forehead and wished her a good rest.

           

 

            I awoke with a start one week later.  I could feel a small cold epicenter on my forehead that was slowly disappearing.  I sat up with a start realizing Edward had been here.  I had been trying for the better part of the week to figure out how to tell him.  Flipping between email, phone calls and a trip to his place, I couldn’t decide what the best way would be.  I slid out of bed and realized that I wouldn’t need to make the choice any more.  On my bedside table was a piece of paper with two words written in his beautiful script.

 Live Well. 

I felt horribly that Edward would have to find out this way.  I suppose Alice would have mentioned the disappearance of my future and when it had not reappeared, he came to see me.  I glanced over at Jacob, tangled in my sheets, sleeping soundly with his arms and legs hanging off my too small bed.  I couldn’t help but feel some pride mixed in with the love that spilled from me now.  I had chosen myself.  Chosen to be myself.  Chosen to get down in the dirt, and really live.  I had chosen to live and I would live it all.  I would live well.