I wish things were different. I wish I could remember loving him. I wish I could feel something other than hopelessness because I know he's terrific. He is a good man.
He wipes my face with his thumbs.
"Don't cry. It's not your fault. Everything will be fine. I'll miss you, Harlow, but I’m used to missing you." He takes his hand away from my face.
"I gotta go. Please take care of yourself. I know you'll do great teaching this year, and I know you'll do great at getting better. You have my number. Please use it if you need me and I'll be in touch with Craw about how you're doing." His lips come down so close to mine, I think he's about to kiss me, but instead his lips find my cheek, and I know one of my tears have reached them. "I...I can't promise myself that it will be easy just to be your friend, but I know this is the way it has to be."
Then Raphael Cruz walks away and I feel defeated.
***
So I survived Labor Day weekend in Sandy Cove. I’m not so sure the conversation with Cruz leaves me feeling any better, but I let him know I wanted us to be friends. Not sure how responsive he is going to be to that. His head was lowered as if it pained him to raise it. By the slouch of his strong shoulders, I could tell he was more than disappointed in our meeting. His steps were slow, yet determined, as if he needed to be away from me as quickly as he could be. Most of all, he looked as if he felt defeated, too. Was I the enemy to him in some way now? Or was it just too painful for him to be with me in any capacity? I can tell how hard it is for him. Maybe being friends will be even harder, but maybe with time, and us not being around each other, he will just take the memories he had with me and tuck them away. Accept it’s over. For me, I have none. It's easier. I hope he finds someone to love him for the person he is. Maybe someday I'll find that too, not anytime soon, but for now I have to stay on the path of getting back to living my life. Healing.
A teacher’s first day back to school is okay. Basically we just sit in the auditorium for a brief time. The principal talks about things going on for the upcoming year, any new curriculums or new protocols we need to know, and an introduction to any new teachers or staff new to our school.
Willow drives me in because I'm not yet released to drive. We sit there greeting our fellow teachers we haven't seen since last year. I prepared myself for all the hugs and questions about my accident. I thank everyone for the cards and flowers and well wishes. I really am so blessed to work here. The people at Grayson-Elders are the best. I do remember them and the way they welcomed me when I began there last year.
As our principal tells us to take a seat and starts his speech, welcoming us all back, but it's so damn dark in this auditorium and Willow's half asleep next to me. He goes on about new initiatives to improve test scores, looking at last year's data to see where we have improvement needed. I nudge Willow when I hear a slight snore.
"What…what the hell? Oh Christ, what is he going on about?"
I whisper to her, "Changes to protocol on fire drills and safety drills. Exciting, exciting stuff." We both snicker and get a look from one of the trollish lunch ladies.
She swipes a finger underneath one of her eyes. "I'd rather be visiting my vagina doctor than be sitting here listening to this." I stifle back a laugh.
Willow yawns and asks the question I have been waiting for her to ask me since 7:10 this morning. "Wanna go to The Barn after we blow this joint and get shit faced?"
I roll my eyes at her, and with my focus still on the podium, answer in a whisper, "It's 9 a.m. for God's sake, Wills. Can we get through setting up our classrooms first and try to avoid falling asleep here in these seats?"
She tucks a stand of hair back in her bun and takes out a new bobby pin to readjust the flyaway pieces.
“I’ll do my best. But he’s not helping me with my sleepiness.”
He
Learning to Kill: Stories