Chapter Sixty-Seven: A Valentine’s Day

I sat alone on a bench on a day where solitude was forbidden. The bench was cold to the touch, a chilly morning. Yet, the sun bathed me in its rays, almighty and majestic. It warmed me enough so I took out my sandwich to eat.

As couples passed by me through morning, I bade my time, nibbling slowly on the sandwich in my hands. It was cold, still. The couples clutched each other as if there was no tomorrow, probably due to the morning chill but more so because of their love. The fact that some held a bouquet of roses in their hands made it even more apparent that I was; eating a sandwich.

Alone.

Just for that one day, they (those bumbling fools of love) put their past behind them, arguments aside and feelings of despair to keep a 24 hour day perfect and subtle. Such a day was reserved out of 365 so that a relationship would last, but that day, a year ago was reserved for my relationship to end.

She was just across the road. In my hands, I had a bouquet of red roses (her favourite) and the widest smile on my face. I glanced at my watch: 8.25am.

As if God had painted a perfect picture/painting, He juxtaposed her smile against the sun and therein I saw a beauty I did not know I would see for the very last time that day. Oh, Monday. The streets were filled with slow-moving cars, savouring the rapture of love and so was I.

She took a step on the road, her sneakers making a light pat on the tarmac, and my heart palpated as the distance between us got smaller and smaller. I crossed out to meet her, oblivious of the fact that we were in the middle of the road, illegality became legality on such a day.

“Aubrey…” I could not bear to finish my greeting as I sought to embrace her. Her lips pressed against mine, warm and filled with boundless love. You could snap a picture and it still wouldn’t be as perfect as the infinitesimal moment when she withdrew and looked deep into my eyes. The look of love.

The last look before I heard the screeching of tires, a bump and my head hitting the ground. It wasn’t a blow to my head, it felt comfortable, as if a cushion of love lay below me. All went black and it was sometime before I awoke to remember nothing.

I saw Aubrey beside my hospital bed, a reassuring smile on her face. I knew everything would be fine. I squeezed her hand gently and tried to utter her name. I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t hear myself. I saw her lips move but there was no sound.

Was she just mouthing her words or was she really speaking. I tried to speak again and to listen to her but to no avail. She held my hands closer to her chest, attempting to comfort me. I knew what was wrong. My mouth that spoke of love was dysfunctional and so were my ears to listen the gentle notes that she whispered of love.

The months following that were torturous, I could not move around without her help and my world was silent, deafening to the ears. Ironic, to think that I could not hear anything else but nothing. We tried to continue our relationship and her omniscient guidance helped pull us through until things took a turn for the worse when it was she who suffered a greater calamity of a Stage 4 cancer.

She wrote on a piece of paper: “Phillip, I went to the doctor just now with Mum”

I wrote back: “Why?”

“I’ve had a tumour all these months that I never told you of. And it was getting worse. And…”
Her pen grew unsteady.

“what?”

“I’ve just been diagnosed with cancer.”

I didn’t write anything back. It was a frank and honest opinion that I had because the news struck me heavily, like a hammer through the room.

I looked at her and our eyes met for a moment. The tears were in her eyes but they did not fall, instead mine did. I wanted to shout out, I wanted to scream out in frustration. I wanted to ask God why all that was calamitous struck our relationship.

I wanted to look at the sky, and point at God in accusation. I wanted to scream at God, to tell him to fuck off. My faith was shattered at this point.

One thing led to another, and her condition became bad to worse and soon she was too sick to care for me and now I took the role of being the doctor, and she the patient. But we had equality in the rights of being lovers. Despite all this, I could not save her and she slipped through my fingers lifeless. Her beautiful eyes were something that I could never see again.

Now, valentine’s was spent alone. Silence reigning.

Try as I might to stifle my tears, to put my past behind, she always seemed to be there. My tears cascaded and flowed freely, basked in morning glory but devoid of love. The fell to the ground without a sound- I could not hear any.

I clenched my fists in raw melancholy, attempting to find an outlet of emotion to cleanse my soul with. Just then, the warmest gust of wind blew past me. It was only a momentary blanket as I got up to return to my grey apartment.

There was that road again in front of me, waiting to be crossed- Grey Street.

I remember a book I read that mentioned a Brazilian superstition that a couple should never return to a place that had significance to them again, like the place a couple first met or a place where love was boundless. They believed that when one does as such, it means the relationship has come full circle and the relationship would end.

I took one step, followed by another as I made my way slowly across the seemingly empty street. That gust of wind again and I closed my eyes to savour the moment.

I knew it was her. Oh, the fragrance of her love was so familiar, her warm breath that played down the side of my face and the whisper of her words I could hear. When one’s love is something that downplays the reality of ethereal-ism, by seemingly impossible circumstances and odds, the path of two that are in love cross.

They cross in an alternate universe that conspires for all your want and needs. A universe that believes in perfect love. I felt her fingers slip into my hand, her hair against the side of my face now as she embraced me. Her soft flowing hair that cascaded down my chest. My heart was calm, calmed by her presence. The warmth of her chest against mine.

A second passed and I opened my eyes to see nothing in front of me. The very last thing I would see was the car that was speeding closer and closer.

But, I didn’t move. The distance between the car and I decreased with every passing moment but I was content that the very distance that I never managed to bridge was now at a close.

At last, my life, my love is now full circle.