Moving Forward
kask

You look sad. Don’t get angry, it’s just an observation, like the world has just dropped down from under your feet. Maybe it has. I know how you feel. You roll your eyes, but it’s true. You feel completely alone, a drowning ship in a storm. All you want is the water to stop moving, the waves to cease for a moment, because you know that if they do, you may be able to save yourself. You can stop worrying about everyone else and take a breath.

You feel like nobody can understand the unbearable pain; you feel like it may kill you. You wonder how your heart has not bled to death. You never once guess if you can move on. It’s out of the question. You will feel this way forever.

You’ve just lost the one you love – your best friend. Was he my best friend? you wonder guiltily. You shake the question off. It’s too much to take. But it doesn’t matter, for you know that you weren’t his best friend. He told you he loved you, but already had two best friends.

I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you, honestly. Just breathe, I know it hurt, but I promise it won’t be like this forever. “How do you know?� you ask bitterly. Experience, or something of the sort.

You laugh, a cackle almost; it doesn’t fit you. I know your laugh is meant to ring out, but it’s all right, you’re in pain.

“Did I lose Death Eater friends? Is that your experience?� you ask.

I smile feebly. I would be offended, but I let it slide; you have no reason to trust me.

I shake my head. I tell you about my father and stepfathers. I admit, some I had never met, but I had been close to the others. I tell you how I hate my mother for never caring about my grief, for never caring about me.

You feel badly and quietly ask what will happen next.

You will hurt, a constant longing, an ache deep inside. And it’s worse than the pain right now. You will understand soon, but right now, it’s an open wound, stinging harshly, the pain so fresh and close. But with this is hope; you can still remember everything about him – his scent, his laugh, his smile. You feel like it’s not really happening, that he’ll be back. When this fades, and the other pain sets in, you’ll awake every morning missing him. It’ll begin to settle that he’s really gone. And you’ll miss him, like a friend who has permanently moved away. Solace will be hard to come by, and all you can do is wait, and cry.

Then you’ll be afraid, afraid because you’re forgetting him. His face is blurring in your memory, and you can’t remember his grin. You begin to panic, bringing a picture of him wherever you go. That will pass, don’t worry, you’ll learn that you’ll never forget him.

Just when you think it’ll never end, like the pain will live inside of you forever, something will happen. Someone you love will say something, and you’ll smile. It’ll be a real smile, and you’ll feel warmth to your fingertips. It’ll be like light in years of darkness. A part of you will fall back into place and you’ll be thankful. You’ll be thankful that you have these people in your life, thankful to be alive.

Eventually, you will laugh. It doesn’t seem like it now, but you’ll know things will be okay. You will hear birds chirp in the morning, see fresh dew on the ground, and not wake up missing him so badly. You’ll stop crying every night and be able to say his name without wanting to die.

You will be able to listen to stories about him, listen to stories about all the good he did, about the people he saved. And you’ll feel lucky. You’ll feel lucky for knowing such an extraordinary person, and knowing that out of everyone, he loved you.

You’ll still talk to him, and miss him, especially on beautiful days like today, because it’ll hurt that he isn’t there. You’ll remember how he loved days like this, how he loved you, and you’ll curse the world for taking away your happiness.

Maybe you’ll do this forever.

It feels like it’ll never happen, but you’ll move on. You’ll wake up and he’ll be there, but you’ll have a different life. Things will change, and he won’t be a part of your new life. Not really. And some days, you’ll feel bad because you know that he should be.

You’ll meet someone who will make you feel alive again, the way he made you feel, and it’ll be awful. Guilt will eat you alive for a few weeks, but you’ll convince yourself that he would want you to be happy.

And he would.

Good things will happen. You can’t imagine it now, you can’t see yourself living like you did before, you can only try to make it through the day. But you’ll be happy. People will fall in love, and get married, babies will be born, and you’ll find happiness in it all.

Maybe you’ll never let go of him. No one will ask you to, I promise. A part of him will always be there, and with the happiness will come sorrow. You’ll think that he should be there for it all. And every once in a while, you’ll find yourself searching the room for him, like you did when you were a young girl. You’ll expect to see him there, grinning and waiting for you. It’ll hurt the most when you have to remind yourself that you’ll never see him again.

Time will go on, and you won’t cry for him anymore – well, not as much. Sometimes you will. When a certain song plays or the lake ripples just like it did when you spent the day there, tears will come, but you won’t take them as weakness. You’ll know that they are tears of strength, of making it so long without him.

You’ll tell your children and grandchildren of him, wanting him to live on in the memories of all. And when you do, it’ll feel like another life. You’ll have to travel back decades, and you won’t be able to imagine him in your life anymore. Too much time will have passed.

You’re crying now, and I expected it. But you haven’t let me get to the best part – seeing him again. You will, I know you will. If you think that it ends with this life, you’re wrong. When all is said and done, you’ll be together again. It’s just a matter of time, making it through the heartache.

You’ll be afraid that it may not be the same, that he’ll be angry with you for moving on. But he won’t be. He’ll say that that’s what he always loved about you, your strength. He’ll want to thank the man you married for taking care of you.

You stop crying, and I know that you will make it. “He’s lucky to have had you�, I whisper. Your eyes are thankful - curious, but thankful nonetheless. We begin to walk toward the castle, a light breeze ruffling our hair.

“Can’t you feel him?� I ask.

And you close your eyes, letting the gentle wind tickle your face, and slowly nod.