Every Tuesday she comes. My teteteteacher mamamakes her wait outside my clclclclassroom until 2:25, but I see her pppppppeeking into the classroom door through the little glass window at 2:21, or 2:22, with a big smile.

On the first dadadaday she came, I think she wanted to hug me and I thought. "No way." BBBBBBut then she lifted up one hand to gigigigive me a high five, so I gave it bbbback, hard, and she didn't seem to mind. She told me to pipipipipick a bbbbig number instead of five and I said one thousand bbbbbbecause it's bbbbbig and told me from now on we will say high one thousand and I liked that, bbbbbecause I never heard anyone say high one thousand. And she said it again, right away, "High one thousand," pretty loud, lifting both hands, like a high ten, and her voice and hands made me forget about hitting bbbbback hard.

We walked down the hall together, and I wasn't sure whwhwwhy or where we were going. She led me to the cacacacacafeteria and told me we could play a game. Just the two of us. There were other kids there with one grown up too, all at separate tables, and I wanted to sit near Germaine, but she said that is against the rules and I don't like rules, bbbbbut I listened anyway. We put down our things and went to the gagagagame closet outside the cacacacacafeteria and I picked playdough even though it isn't really a gagagagagame. The reason I like playdough is because I can smash it, bbbbbreak it, and cut it and not get in trouble. In school and at home I destroy things and I always get in trtrtrtrtrouble. My hands just do it, even if I don't want to, like they are my bbbbbbboss, instead of my teacher or my mother. And the guidance counselor said, "Maybe a mentor will help," so I know that is who she is. She ttttttold me to cacacacall her Miss BB but I didn't say her nananame out lalalaloud the first day, only in my head, bbbbecause I always get stuck on the BBBB's and I thought why should I learn her name, bbbecause she will not come bbbback, bbbbecause she is not going to like me. Nononobbbbody ddddoes.

After I took the playdough out of the container, right away I started stabbbbbing at the purple, hard, and she didn't ask me why. She just took out the pink and gently started rolling small bbbbballs next to me and asked me to make the same size bbbbballs with the purple, or bbbbigger ones if I wanted, bbbbbut I didn't, and kept stabbing the purple until it was the size peas. She asked me if I was mad and if I wanted to talk about why and I didn't want to look at her bbbbbecause I think she must bbbbbe nice, and nice people should just go away from bbbbboys like me, the way my Daddy did. BBBBut he wasn't nice. He left us bbbbecause of the fighting and I know it was mostly all my fault. My sister's too, bbbbbecause of her wheelchair and the way she smells. And bbbbecause we don't have enough money. And because he didn't like the way people stare at us and whisper and I don't either. Why don't they stop?

And then Miss BB said something so nice that I wanted to stop stabbing, but I didn't, because it is what my hands do. She said, if I am angry and if I feel like stabbing things, it doesn't matter to her. She said Tuesdays at 2:25 is a special time for her, like a holiday, because she will get to see me, a special, good little boy, and that no matter what I do, she is going to keep coming, every Tuesday to sit with me even if I don't feel like talking, just to sit next to me, because she knows I am good. I told her that she must be thinking of another boy and she said "Nope. You. Only you." And I almost wanted to give her a hug, but instead I said high one thousand, and we did it and we do it every time she comes, because she told me the truth about Tuesdays. One time I overheard the security guard whisper to her when we were leaving the cafeteria, "Do you realize he doesn't stutter when he is with you?" Why is he listening in on our special time? Doesn't he know she is only here for me?

People die every day.

Most without ever

Having truly lived.

Most convinced to be

Content with a poor

Quality of life.

Not having enough to eat.

Not having clean water to drink.

Thinking love is something to harbor and

Store up from others, but not something

To be giving out because they might run

Out of it.

Litlle puppy dogs getting run over

By cars.

The war isn’t ending anytime soon

So as if thing are to keep going as they are.

A parent kills themselves, and the funeral

Is on the kids birthday.

She clasped her grandmother's hand in hers,

stunned by the weakness and frailty

of the skinny fingers.

Machines beeped in the sanitary hospital room.

The words 'Palliative Care'

Crisp on the walls.

A sob was wrenched from her mother's throat

And she watched the first tear drop

Many would soon follow.

Wetness coated her own cheeks in silence

Unable to disrupt the mourning

Despite the life beside them.

That night her father came to get her from the dreary room

And her mother urged her to go and said,

"Grandma won't pass if you're here."

She offered a weak smile, knowing her grandpa was there

In spirit for both her mom and grandma

And she walked away willingly.

In the middle of the night, she woke to heartbreak

And knew her grandma had left this world.

A happy soul now gone forever.

Cries echoed down the hallway when her mother returned

And she wiped away her own sorrows to put on her face.

A warrior's mask to support her mom

And fight her demons with her.

The little boy once known as the prodigy took his spotlight.

Violin at the ready,

Bow held high,

He began.

He played the most complex and beautiful melodies.

Songs that took you soaring through the heavens,

Suspended you in time.

Lost in the one man symphony.

Emotion and precision in perfect harmony.

And in the end,

Thunderous applause...

...From his audience of two.

The streets can be an uncaring stage.

He made three dollars that day.

Maybe next time he'd have enough for a hot meal.

maybe all i needed was something to believe in

and now you're leaving

thought that i was finally winning

but that was just a necessary step

i had to take

to fall harder than ever

and harder than that

it's so quiet in here

but i can hear all the demons screaming my name

you clown!

you fool!

and all i can say is

i know

i knew

I gazed down thinking how long it would take to reach the bottom. I was never good at judging distances, so I grabbed a pebble and dropped it off the edge. It went rushing to it's end faster than I thought. This was good. A quick descent is what I'm hoping for. I stepped up on the ledge taking one last look around. It was late at night like I planned, so I didn’t expect anyone to be here. I took a deep breath preparing for the looks and conversations I would have if I failed. One more dissapointment is just to much to deal with. I’m already at my breaking point with this. I lift my leg ready to take this final step when I hear something moving behind me. It was a black cat with the most mesmerizing green eyes I’ve ever seen. I didn’t even know cats had green eyes. I backed away from the edge hoping it wouldn’t run away. The cat sat down, curling its tail behind it, letting out a soft meow. I reached down to pet it and it raised it’s head into my palm. I sat down and it climbed in my lapped and started purring. Seeing it so content with me, I just stayed there for awhile. I guess I’ll have to try again another day. It’s true what they say: Black cats really are bad luck.

“Tsu, we need to leave. Come on, let’s go.” Said Martha as she gripped my elbow in an effort to lift me from my seat. “Alright, I’m coming. Relax.” I guess this is what happens if you become a doctor . I thought to myself. As I left my room, I wondered why Martha was so worried. I hope it’s nothing too serious. Last time she had this look was when her mother was in that car accident. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

My name is Tsukasa. I am from Japan. Martha is a professional at her job. She’s from the U.S. We work in a small village in Japan where there are only 5 doctors in total. I work with Martha from 9 to 5. Tanaka, Bill and Sarah work after us.

When we arrived at the patient’s house, we could hear someone crying in another room. “Martha. Do you hear that” I asked only to notice the look on Martha’s face. It was just like when her mother passed away. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.” I rang the doorbell. “This is Martha. From the hospital.” replied Martha. We were greeted by a woman who had clearly been crying. “Come in. My daughter is in that room. There is nothing you can do anymore...” I was shocked by her statement. I shrugged it off and went into her daughter’s room. “May we come in?” Asked Martha. “Yes, you can come in.” As I entered her room, I saw this weak, frail girl who looked nine years old. I went on to notice that she had also been crying. “So little girl, what’s your name?” I inquired. “I-It’s Nino.” she replied sounding weaker than before. “Well Nino, What’s the problem?” “I’m beyond curing now. All I ask of you is to take care of my grandma” said Nino. She had tears welling up in her eyes. Martha started to get worried. “Doctors, tea’s ready. It’s in the living room.” Announced Nino’s grandmother. “You two go have some tea. I’ll stay here.” I was shocked at how little hope she had left.

As we entered the living room, Nino’s grandmother was waiting for us and greeted us with a smile that was hiding a thousand tears behind it. “Please, take your tea.” Said her grandmother with a gentle smile. “What exactly is the problem with Nino?” I asked, breaking the silence in the room. “Her internal organs are rotting. The doctors said that they could save her. They gave us false hope. One day before her operation, they said it’s too late. They said she has 2 weeks to live. That’s two days from now.” I was suprised at how composed she was. She didn’t give the slightest hint that she was sad. “Can’t we help in any way? I mean there has to be something, right? Martha asked desperately, looking at Nino’s grandmother with determination. “Did you not hear what I said? She is Dead! Dead! That girl has two days to live And I’m trying to make them the best last days she can have. Now, if you’re done, you may leave.” replied Nino’s grandmother. as she left, I could see the tears dripping from her cheek. We returned to Nino’s room to say our goodbyes. We saw her on the bed, facing away from us. “I’m sorry for my grandma. She’s just worried about me. She’ll be all alone after I’m gone. You heard it from, I’m supposed to die in two days. So I guess it’s natural she’s worried for me. Nino was also holding her tears back. She wasn’t afraid of what would happen to her. She feared more for her grandmother. Martha lunged forward towards Nino and tightly held her hand. “We will take care of your grandma. No. Matter. What.” Martha comforted Nino. “Thank you. Thank you so much...” Nino jumped into Martha’s arms and started crying. She felt that she no longer had to burden all that pain alone. As we waved goodbye, Nino gave me a smile. A smile hiding so much pain. I couldn’t much sleep that night. Or the night after that. Before I knew it, two days had passed. I woke up at six A.M and saw Martha heading towards Nino’s house. “Hey Martha. What’s up?” I asked Martha casually. “I got a call from Nino’s grandmother. She told me Nino was calling us. It sounded urgent.”

As we approached the front door, my heart started racing. I was worried about Nino’s grandmother. What will happen to her once Nino is gone? “Hey Tsu, we’re here. Ring the bell.” Said Martha. “Y-Yeah. Hello? This is Tsukasa and Martha. May we come in?” I asked hesitantly. “Yes, come in.” Replied a sorrow filled voice from inside the house. “Nino wanted to see you before her time came. She’s in her room. Let’s go.” When we arrived, Nino’s grandmother sat on the chair beside the bed. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’ve treated me so nicely. I would’ve loved to talk to you sometime.” Said Nino, with tears in her eyes. “Her time is almost here.” Nino’s grandmother signalled to us. “Grandma. remember to take your medicines on time. And remember the salt is kept in the third cabinet.” Nino said that with a smile and tears flowing down her cheek. “I know honey, I know.” Nino’s grandmother replied also with tears flowing down her cheek. As Nino’s hand left her grandmother’s, her grandmother burst into tears. “It’s over. She’s gone now.”

The music drifts through my ears.

I feel free and let go of my fears.

The calm takes over as I soak in the lyrics.

The breeze blows against my face. Emotions mixed.

I take another step. I'm getting closer. I'll be brave.

The music helps and gives me the empty feeling that I crave.

I begin to feel lighter as i gaze out at the stars.

I move my foot forward. And look down at the cars.

The music lifts me. It makes me smile.

It takes away the pain... for a little while.

The beat kicks in and I feel myself relax.

I can now let go. Peace at last.

I take the final step, and fall into the air.

The music continues on. The wind whips my hair.

My pain will soon be gone. No more being alone.

The beat echoes in my heart. I'm now going home.

The passing cars are getting closer, as I plummet to the ground.

I'm done. Gone. My music still makes the sound.

Wherever I walked, I left a trail of literal darkness behind me. I tried to keep it from happening, but it was hard when there were so many things bringing out the sadness within me. So many idiots were out there who didn’t understand what it was like. They didn’t know. I didn’t know either. I didn’t know why I was different; I didn’t know where I came from; I didn’t have a home; I didn’t have a name; I didn’t have a family. But I called myself Cassie. It made me feel... normal.

Life is difficult when you’re anything like I was. When you don’t know where to go; when you can’t make friends because nobody trusts you. I had this power; it was hard to control. I’ve had many unpleasant thoughts which I somehow had the ability to literally give to others. I didn’t mean to give them those thoughts; I didn’t really want to hurt anyone. If anyone deserved to be hurt, it was me.

Of course, somehow I still had to go to school. Even without a birth certificate, even though nobody knew about my existence, I still had to go.

Why am I torturing myself? All the people who do know I exist are afraid. That’s why I hide. I hide under my hat. I had this purple beanie. I wore it so people couldn’t see what I actually looked like. I had it my entire life. I didn’t know where it came from, but it hid the death in my eyes. It covered up this monster in me...apparently this monster can also be physically seen by others too. When I wore the hat, my eyes would become a normal hazel color like most humans. No one knew how I looked without the hat on… Not until high school.

Honestly, the first day of freshman year wasn’t the worst first day I’ve had. Nobody was being rude to me, they mostly just pretended I wasn’t there.

This was really a normal day for me. As long as nobody made me anxious, mad or depressed, or worse than I already was, then everyone was safe. That’s why school was extremely difficult for me.

I’ve had moments in the past where I accidently used my power on a teacher...That teacher ended up killing a student… and herself… Luckily, there was no way they could trace it back to me. Nobody knew about my power… I think… At least not at the time.

So the first class I have today is Creative Writing. Good, a class I can handle.

I walked into the classroom and I sat in the back corner.

Nobody wants to sit near me, anyway. I understand.

To my surprise, a girl came over to my corner and sat right next to me. She looked directly at my eyes, grinned, and then looked at the ground, smiling.

That’s not the reaction I’m used to.

I looked at my desk. Then at my backpack. I got my pencil and notebook out for class; I looked back up at the girl. She had her stuff out and she was already writing.

Her skin is pale. She has natural forest green eyes. She wears thick, black eyeliner. Her eyes are big and the green color shines off of her eyes. Dark brown hair- almost black, but not quite. Her bangs cover up most of her face. She’s wearing black, like me- but with some red and more color and she looks beau-

“Alright, hello class. I am Ms. Zcivokotorp. That is Zvick-tore. The last ‘P’ is silent and the ‘C’ is pronounced as a ‘V’. Zcivokotorp. You can call me Ms. Z. That’s easier for everyone-”

Ok, class is starting. Just listen. Don’t worry about anything. If you worry, things will get bad. No, stop thinking. Oh, no. I’m worrying. I’m worrying pretty bad. Merrr.

I looked at my wrist and it looked like it was smudged with black ink.

No, this is my power. The worries are showing. I’m getting hungry. No, I don’t want to be hungry. Good things don’t usually happen when I’m hungry. I need to go to my happy place.

I looked back at the girl next to me. My heart felt like it was in a knot and my stomach whirled.

I don’t know what this is. I’m not worried though. I don’t know what this feeling is.

My worries started going away and the black on my wrist faded back to my semi-normal pale skin tone.

I guess that means this feeling isn’t bad. Nobody looks like they got hurt. I’m not as hungry. Did I just control it? That never happens. I don’t know what just happened. I...I think I need to leave. I’ll wait for the bell then, I guess.

The bell rang and I waited for everyone else to leave the room before I slowly made my way out the door with all my stuff packed away in my backpack. I walked down the hall and into the stairwell. There’s always a door at the back of every stairwell, so I walked through that door right out of the school. Once I got outside, I started running. My school is right next to where I “live,” so I didn’t have to run too far. I climbed over the gates across the

street from the school and I sat in a dark, shady spot under a bunch of trees. I threw down my backpack and I sat in my “bed.” Everything there was already dead, so I didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone.

I just continued to sit, and I started thinking. I thought about how that girl made me feel.

I didn’t even know her name.

Suddenly, I felt lonely. Once I thought, “loneliness”, a beautiful red rose on the bush beside me turned gray. Its thorns shot out, it made a noise like it was screaming, then the rose fell to the floor, turning black.

It’s fine, I’m used to this. It was my last living rose, though.

It started to get dark outside. I scanned the general area of the cemetery I “lived” in, then I closed the coffin and stared at the darkness. I eventually drifted off to sleep.

I woke up the next morning to the sound of my breath. I pushed open the coffin and looked around. It seemed brighter than usual. It was weird.

I stepped out and grabbed my backpack to go to school.

Forget food and everything else, I need to know that person’s name.

I rushed to the cemetery gate and quickly climbed over. I ran across the empty streets.

Why are the streets empty?

I ran into the school and realized I was really late. I never usually slept in that late. It was already second period.

Which class do I even have?

I turned around to grab my backpack. Right behind me, I saw the girl. She was with a friend, but once she saw me, she smiled.

She looks cute with her eyes shining... Her hair looks like it’s floating.

Her friend looked at me. Her eyes widened, her face turned white, and she turned and walked away quickly.

She’s scared of me. Ok, if that’s how she wants to be. I don’t care. Everyone’s like that with me, anyway. You’re just like the rest.

Without having noticed, I had been “triggered.” I looked back at the girl and I froze. “I...I gotta go,” I said, and I dashed out of the school through the same stairwell.

I think I left another stupid trail of darkness. I don’t like this, it’s annoying.

“Hey!” the girl yelled over to me. I stopped right before I reached the street and I turned around.

“Yes?”

“I’m Evelyn…” she said loudly, yet softly at the same time.

“I...I’m Cassie,” I responded. I slowly turned back around, eyes wide, and I ran across the street. I climbed over the gates back to the cemetery. I turned around again to see that the girl followed me over here. She looked around. I think she was reading the tombstones. Then she looked back over to me blankly. She threw her backpack beside a tombstone with my name on it. (Yes, I got my name by reading a dead person’s tombstone. I didn’t have anyone name me. I’m pretty sure the government doesn’t even know I exist.)

“Why did you follow me here?” I asked Evelyn.

“I was, uh...I don’t really know. I mean...the ground started turning dark where you walked and I was wondering what was happening.”

No, my power. How do I explain this to her. I think I can probably trust her. I don’t really know her though. Who cares, how else am I expected to make friends?

I looked at Evelyn and I reached for my purple beanie. “Before I show you the real me, I need to warn you: I have a power that basically makes everything dark and depressing. I don’t like it, but I was born like this. I...have been trying to hide it for a long time. Nobody has seen the real me. Please don’t go,” I said.

She stared at me blankly. I probably freaked her out, but too late. I already said I’d show her.

I slowly took off my hat and held it tightly in my hand. I stared at Evelyn and watched her reaction to what I was hiding; a dark, broken half-dead figure with limbs falling off, and completely black eyes that stare deep into your soul.

She didn’t seem as much scared as she was surprised. Her eyes widened and she smiled slowly. “Whoa…”

Well that was not the reaction I was expecting. I forced a laugh and I put the hat back on. “Anyway…”

“Cool,” she said, still staring at me.

“You’re not scared?”

“Why would I be scared?”

“Did you not just see me?”

“I’m not going to judge you based on what society thinks is right or wrong…”

Wow. Not many people are like that. I knew there was something about her that was...different. I like this.

Since that day, Evelyn and I had been hanging out pretty often. Each of us would choose a place that we want to go and we would hang out every other day.

I remember when I brought her to a park near the cemetery; I remember when she held my hand. I remember going on the swings and jumping off like I was flying; she did the same and landed right next to me. Another time she took me to a baseball field that she would go to when she was little. She used to play baseball and I remember the stories of when she played. I remember sitting on top of the batting cage and we watched the sunset. I remember that I kissed her cheek and she turned and kissed my lips and I remember sitting there together until the sun went down and the dark filled the sky.

Evelyn brought her friend. She loved her friend and she loved me.

I was doing pretty well controlling my power for a while. Until something happened... Why does something always have to happen?

One day, I went over to Evelyn’s house. She offered me food and everything. I couldn’t say no. I stayed over for a while. Then her dad came in. It started out ok. Her dad kept asking me questions. He wanted to be sure that he “approves” of me. That’s what dads do. Then he went a bit too far with his “questioning.” Evelyn left for the bathroom and things got really intense. Her dad was basically yelling at my face. No, he was yelling at my face.

“Get away from me! I never plan on hurting anyone!” I yelled.

“If you don’t tell my daughter the truth, I want you to get your ass out my house right now!”

Nobody ever yelled at me like that before. I was scared. I didn’t mean to react. There was no turning back time. I could see the darkness in his eyes. I gave it to him. Right then, he was triggered too. There was nothing I could do but run out of the house as he grabbed a gun from a safe. He fired it at me a few times from just outside his front door, then he pointed it at his own head and pulled the trigger.

I saw Evelyn come out of the house. I froze when she saw her dad on the ground...dead. She looked up at me- I swear, I will never forget how she said this- “You’re a Monster.”

It was obviously not my day that day. Tears started streaming out of her eyes. She reached for her dad’s gun and pointed it at me, but she couldn’t shoot it. It was too hard for her.

I was triggered very badly at that moment and I could see the darkness go into Evelyn’s eyes. Evelyn stopped what she was doing and dropped the gun on the ground. She started to scream and she put her hands to her head. She looked like she was hurting.

At that point, I realized what I had done. I ran back to her.

“Evelyn-”

“Get away from me!”

“But I know how to help-”

“I said GO AWAY, BITCH!”

“Evelyn- Ev… Those are my thoughts. I… I know how they work. I can seriously help-”

“You can’t help me, Cassie. My dad was the only family I had left. You killed him-”

“That was only a part of me - you know what? Come here.”

“What? Where are you going? I’m not coming with you-”

“Please, just trust me on this.”

“But I… ok,” Evelyn said.

She got up slowly and reached for the gun.

“No, put it down.”

“But-”

“Please trust me.”

She paused for a couple seconds. Then she backed away and left it on the ground.

“Ok, now follow me.”

I took her to a place that always calmed me down. It was a quiet place right by the water. There were a bunch of rocks. All you could feel was a nice breeze with the smell of fire. A sweet fire. And leaves. You could hear the water being pulled down the creek and it was beautiful. I looked back over at Evelyn and she had no expression on her face; she seemed pretty calm to me, but she wasn’t used to these thoughts. So many bad things that were going on in her mind.

I should’ve apologized, I should’ve right then. That was the last time I ever got to see her. The next day, I went back to her house to see how she was doing and if she was okay . There were a couple police cars around her house. I asked an officer what happened. He told me that they were still investigating, but both Evelyn and her dad were gone for good. It was my fault.

I know now that I just can’t handle love. They’ll always end up getting hurt in the end. Ever since Evelyn died, I’ve spent my days alone in the cemetery. Maybe I was never meant to have love. Maybe I’m supposed to be alone. Maybe I was born to kill. Maybe I’ll never know. But I do know that I never want to make that mistake again. If I ever end up meeting someone like Evelyn, I will try not to make as many mistakes. Maybe there’s a way that I can get all this darkness out without taking it out on people. I will find out eventually, but there’s no turning back time. I will just have to figure it out for as long as I “live.” That is, if “living” is what I’m really doing…

“...So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” The last line, then a fanfare of music as the end credits began to roll. I made no movement to get up, but rather stayed where I was, laying on the couch with my arms wrapped around her. Even if the movie was over, and even if my left arm was reaching a concerning level of numbness, I refused to be the one to break the spell. These were some of my favorite moments with her, just feeling the warmth of her body laying against mine, feeling her hair tickle my chin, knowing she was mine.

It hurt much deeper than I could say to be aware that this would be the last of those moments for ten months. It only made me want to prolong this night even more than usual; I wished the movie had never ended. I wished I could stay here forever, freeze us in this perfect little bubble of time, cuddled together here on the couch at the end of her favorite movie.

“I can’t believe we won’t have another night like this for so long,” she murmured, finally shifting herself a bit as she turned her head to look up at me. Clearly, she must have been following a similar train of thought to my own.

“Don’t think of it like that,” I said, stroking her hair. “Think of it as only ten months until we’ll be right back here.”

She smiled, her brown eyes twinkling as they reflected the light from the television screen. “Knowing you’ll be waiting for me will definitely make the blistering heat more bearable.”

I gave her a little grin in return, but what I really wanted to do was cringe. I knew my girlfriend was doing something truly admirable, serving her country in the Navy, and I respected her endlessly for it. Hell, I even thought she made the uniform incredibly sexy, a feat not easily accomplished. But I wished more than anything that she could continue to serve at the base here rather than deploy to Afghanistan. It was just so brutal over there, so dangerous for anyone, let alone my petite, adorable girlfriend. I’d known this was coming, but it was still so hard. I couldn’t keep the fears from creeping in: what if she got seriously injured? What if she never came home?

“Owen? You there?” Her big brown eyes still stared into my face as she entwined her fingers with mine.

“I’m just thinking about how much I’ll miss you, and how I’ll be counting down the days until you come home and make me watch ridiculously bad movies again.”

She scoffed at me and sat up. “The Great Gatsby is a classic! It is not bad and you know it, you’re only saying that to piss me off!”

I winked. “Who, me?”

“Yes, you!” she insisted, shoving me back onto the pillows in mock anger, only to break out giggling a moment later and collapse back down so she was again laying on my chest. “God, I love you so much, Owen. I’m so glad you’ll be waiting for me when I get home.”

I squeezed her tight. “Of course I will be. I can’t imagine anyone more worth the wait.”

“And after I return from deployment, we’re finally going to get Daisy? You promise?”

I smiled, for real this time. Daisy was the name she’d picked—after The Great Gatsby character of course—for the future golden retriever puppy she wanted to adopt. She’d been trying to persuade me to get a puppy since we’d moved in together. “I promise.”

“Then that’s what I’ll look forward to most,” she declared, twisting to kiss me lightly on the lips. “My little family. You and Daisy.”

“That’s right,” I said. I felt my heart leap with joy to hear her consider us a family. I wanted that more than anything. “Just ten months until our little family can sit and cuddle and watch movies again.”

At that moment, it seemed so infinitely far away.

Four months into the deployment. We Skyped whenever she could, emailed even more frequently than that, and yet she still felt worlds away. Every night the bed was so empty, her side cold and unused, and every day I dreaded coming home from work to the quiet house. Still, though, talking to her helped; I was overjoyed each time I saw an email from her in my inbox, antsy and anticipatory all day before each Skype call. Seeing her face and hearing her voice was both a precious treasure and a curse, since I could pretend she was there in the room, but knew in another hour she’d be thousands of miles away again.

She seemed to be alright, which was a comfort. She told me about the people she’d met, the camp where she was stationed, some of the work she was doing. In return I kept her updated about everyone back home and new developments at my job or in our neighborhood. And, of course, I told her how I’d started researching golden retriever breeders in our area.

After saying goodbye after one particular Skype call, I couldn’t help it. I went over to my bedside drawer and pulled out the little velvet box I’d had stashed there for half a year. I opened it; inside was the engagement ring I was going to give her when she returned. I planned to meet her at the airport when she landed with balloons and a welcome home sign like all the families, but I was going to bring the ring too. And right there in the airport, with her looking as attractive as ever in her uniform and with everyone rejoicing as the military men and women unboarded their plane, I would get down on one knee and ask her to marry me. I wanted nothing more in the world than to be with her for the rest of my life, to see her walking down the aisle on her father’s arm towards me, to continue to wake up beside her every day into my old age. And I couldn’t wait to see her walk through those airport gates so I could finally ask the question I’d been dying to for so long.

I smiled and nestled the box safely back into my drawer. She’d been right when she’d said our little family; husband, wife, puppy, and eventually children. Nothing could be more perfect.

Nine and a half months into the deployment, less than two weeks until she was back home in my arms. I was marking every single day on the calendar. I’d selected a dog breeder and had called to arrange a visit to see his newest litter of puppies the day after she was due back.

“Almost there!” she declared happily on our Skype call. “It’s so close I can feel your hug already!” She looked adorable in her dusty uniform.

“I can’t wait,” I said.

The next day, I hummed in the kitchen as I hustled around, putting away my haul of groceries. This week, they included the ingredients for a devil’s food cake, her favorite, which I would bake and decorate in a few days so it was ready to be our dessert on her first night home.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I threw the empty plastic bags I was holding into the trash and hurried over. My heart soared irrationally. Maybe she was home early, had come straight here to surprise me? I knew it wasn’t likely, but I couldn’t keep myself from getting excited and hopeful anyway.

I opened the door and at first glance was ecstatic—Navy uniforms on my front step! Then the reality of the scene sunk in. These two people in uniform were Navy officers, but neither was her. Then it sunk in still further when they confirmed my name and began solemnly talking.

I felt numb; their words echoed in my ears, seemed surreal, and the world felt like it was spinning much too fast. The phrases came one after the other, never ending: sorry to report, died in action, not coming home, memorial, died in honorable service to her country.

One doorbell ring, and my world was crashing and burning around me. I closed my eyes, tears running down my face, as if I might open them again to find that I had imagined these Navy officers and their devastating words at my door.

One, two, three, four. I opened them again. The officers were still there, which meant that she wasn’t, and never would be again.

I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It had been two months since that terrible day, almost as long since her funeral and memorial service. The service had been beautiful; the Navy outdid itself in her honor, with the gun salute and flag over her coffin and countless officers in attendance in uniform. I had laid daisies on her coffin, over top the grand American flag. And yet, the pain had not lessened even an iota in the weeks since.

I dreamed of her every night, thought of her every hour of every day. Now, I sat on the couch, staring blankly at the little velvet box I kept sitting on the coffee table, always in view. I didn’t know what I would do it with now. Maybe in time I would find someone new, but it seemed impossible, too distant to even think about at this point. All of my life had been her, and all of my life was still consumed by thinking of her and wishing endlessly that she was here with me.

We’d been so close; we’d almost made it. How cruel, to be so within reach and then to have it torn away in an instant, due to one IED explosion and her being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I absentmindedly reached down and stroked the puppy fast asleep in my lap. I’d still gone through with the golden retriever puppy in honor of her, and I’d still named her Daisy. The puppy snuffed lightly at my touch and twitched her paw, deeply asleep after hours of energetic racing around the house and chasing the tennis ball I’d thrown for her countless times. I had to admit that I was glad I’d gotten her; she was a wonderful distraction, and though it ached every time I saw her and wished I could have enjoyed her as a family, it was nevertheless a fond way to remember my dreams that had once been.

I stroked Daisy’s soft fur again and thought back to the movie she was named after, a movie that I secretly greatly liked but never would have admitted to enjoying, since teasing about it being bad was always so amusing and made my beautiful Navy girl so cute in her mock anger. Specifically, I thought back to that last line, which had been her favorite line of the entire film: So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

I felt their meaning; I was that boat, struggling to move on, unable to forget her and forget my past. I was not yet ready to move forward, nor did I want to. I couldn’t leave her behind, couldn’t fight the current of her memory dragging me under.

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. Truer words had never been spoken.