I looked out the attic window and saw a truck in the distance. The movers were early. Meaning that in a few hours, I was going to be out of this house for good. A part of me still thought it wasn’t such a great idea to leave a house that housed so many memories. Of good bad and everything in between. But then the other part of me, the part that had led me to make all the rational decisions I’d made in over sixty years of existence said that it was a good thing. And I was going to stick by it if it killed me.
I went to the corner of the attic and retrieved a box I’d not opened in nearly forty years. Even though it wasn’t something I shouldn't have dwelt on, I regretted not doing this sooner. But I knew the movers would need me to leave soon so, better late than never.
I took my sweet time blowing the dust off the box before opening it. An unnecessary action but it gave me a certain satisfaction. The fit of coughs that followed wasn’t satisfying though and I hastily took a sip of water and was happy when the coughing ceased. No need to draw undue attention.
I opened the box and caught my breath. I attempted to pick up the first time and noticed my ageing hand begin to shake. I tightened it to a fist and mentally willed it to be still. The first was a little box that held his very first gift to me. A silver necklace. He had been amused with my love for jewellery and teased me about it, but the day we met, he put it around my neck and when he made me face him, my blush gave my adoration away.
“Do you like it?”
“Oh, I love it, James,” I said hugging him immediately.
He’d chuckled and said that I didn’t even know how it looked on me, and I responded that whatever came from him was beautiful so I didn’t need to check. That had ceased his chuckling and the look he gave me could have melted diamond.
I placed it back with a smile and picked up the next item. It was our first picture together, browning and slowly destroying at the edges. I’d been so camera shy and he had become slightly exasperated that I wasn’t going to take a picture with him. I felt sad that I was ruining the moment so I snuck a kiss on his cheek and he happened to capture it in that moment. I giggled to myself seeing this one cause we’d gone a lot of places and my twists had been frazzled and all over the place. But he said that it was one of my most beautiful looks. I believed him. I believed anything he said.
“So young,” I muttered to myself as I touched the faces on the fraying picture. “So delusional.”
I picked the worn, leather-bound journal next. I was curious to know the way I’d written four decades ago. No one wrote anymore. Everything was electronic. So unoriginal. Constantly at your fingertips so the magic that came with writing had been lost forever. I quickly flipped through the pages and felt a tear slip from my eye. I’d loved doodling so much, and the milky pages felt like gold dust in my hands as I looked at entries and little designs of his name, and mine, and of both of us.
I stopped at an entry that was towards the end of the journal. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the earlier parts of what I wrote but these few lines at the bottom of the paper caught my eye. I knew what it said without reading and whispered the words as I read.
It’s Saturday and everyone is happy. It’s Saturday and everyone is smiling. Thankfully, I’m smiling too, even with my tear-streaked face. Cause I know. I know that it’s the beginning. The beginning of the end.
I dropped the journal like it was on fire and took a second to calm my racing heart. Images of the days that had followed passed calmly through my mind. I heard a cacophony of sounds downstairs and knew it was time to round up. So, I picked the last item in the box. It was a blue, flowery pouch that had little ropes at the end that you could draw open and close.
I drew it open to reveal two beaded bracelets. Black and white. And in the middle of each of them was the Yin and Yang symbol that clicked the bracelet together when they came close. It was going to be the gift I gave us to commemorate the day we first spoke to each other. I remember how excited I was when I got it made. And how torn I felt when I knew I would never get the chance to give it.
“Honey, are you okay?” A voice called from the door. I hastily put it back in and turned to face the man a few metres away. There were new creases in his wrinkling forehead but there was love in his eyes and a calmness to his smile. Hid smile had always been like salve to a wound. It was rapturous, the effect he had on me even after thirty years of marriage.
I closed the box with a quiet finality and sauntered over to him with a smile. “I’m just fine, dear.”
He held my hands and I felt reassured. Choosing this one had been the right choice. “The movers are here.”
I nodded slowly. “I know.”
When we got outside, he said, “Are you ready to start a new life?”
I didn’t answer immediately and looked back at the house. I thought of the movers and how I instructed them to leave behind all the items in the attic. I thought of the box that contained the memories of a love that was never meant to be and finally, I looked at the face of my companion for all these years. My safe space. And then I smiled. It had worked out well in the end. “Yes, Dave. I’m ready.”
And hand in hand, we walked. My glimpse of the past forgotten. Forever.
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