It was three years since she died, the love of my life I never got to love completely. I'm not sure my hometown was ever the same for me after that. I kept in touch with her family, we somehow found comfort in each other's company. I hadn't been home in a while, schooling in another state was one of the things that helped me take my mind off her.
It was the end of the semester, I packed my bags and headed to the airport. I was finally going home after two years. The previous sessions were so packed together I didn't have anytime to see my family and when I did have time, they travelled somewhere else.
The breeze was different when I landed, different from the school air, it felt clean, relieving even.
My mother was very excited to see me, she took an excuse from work to come pick me up.
"You look skinny, haven't you been eating?"
"Can we at least get home before before you weigh me?", I smiled carrying my bag.
She wasn't alone, she came with Cynthia's mom. I didn't know how I'd react to seeing her, what was I going to say, sorry for our loss? She embraced me and helped me carry my bags. It was an awkward ride back home.
"We're clearing out Cynthia's things next week, maybe you want to come around and see if you want anything?"
I didn't know how I felt, a part of me wondered why they didn't just leave it be, another part of me understood it was important for them to clear up, maybe it have them closure.
"I'll come help clear up but I don't know if I want anything".
We dropped her off at her house. It was the first time I saw the house since she died, I couldn't even look at it.
It was exactly a week since I got back and it was the same day Cynthia's things were being cleared. I walked to the dinning table to meet my mom siting having breakfast before she went to work.
"Mrs. Evans called, she wanted to know if you were coming to the house".
"I'm not sure yet, I've not decided", I replied grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Well there's bread in the fridge if you're hungry this morning, your dad has taken your brother and sister to school already".
I went back to my room to lay before hunger set in. I picked my phone to check if I had any notification, just one from YouTube suggesting a live video from Billie Elishe, a sign from Cynthia perhaps.
I had a shower, wore my clothes, put my headset on and headed for the Evans'.
Cynthia's little sister opened the front door.
"Everybody!!!! George's here!!".
She was very excited to see me, she hug me so tight you would think she was trying to kill me. The house was different, I wasn't sure if it was just me or the walls were painted grey to compliment how I felt. Some of her things were packed already.
"Where are those boxes going?"
"Mom said we should give it out to the orphans", her sister replied.
"Wait why aren't you in school like everybody else".
"It's a free day for me. Mom is upstairs trying to pack the remaining".
I walked up the stairs leading to Cynthia's room where Mrs. Evans was packing somethings inside a box.
"What can I help with?", I asked.
"Just pack what you can inside that box and see if you want anything"
She left me in the room. I remember all the fun I had in that room, the games we played, the secrets we shared. I felt the air suddenly become restricting. It dawned on me that I wasn't going to see her again. I held myself trying not to cry. I started packing things inside an open box. I opened the drawer and saw a bunch of rubber bands, silly Cynthia and her weird obsession with rubber bands.
I smiled as I remembered all the times I hid them just to piss her off.
Just as I reached to grab the last band from the edge of the drawer, I felt a piece of paper. I pulled it out to reveal it's content.
I can't wait for you to be a superstar and have a whole stage to yourself so I can tease you from the front of the crowd or slam myself into your microphone, whichever comes first. As I write this, I'm currently eating a banana because I know you don't like bananas and I have rubbed it all over this paper, I can't wait see your face after that. I'm waiting for anybody coming towards you to help me give you this because texting is so boring. 9 1391919 251521.
It was a simple letter that shook my entire being at the moment. The last part was a code we came up with when we were little, it meant "I miss you".
I smiled at how gross she was, rubbing the banana all over the letter was something she would do. I sat on the bed reading the content of the letter over and over again, hoping there'd be more. Her mom walked in to grab another box.
"Is there a problem?"
"No, no problem, do you mind if I just sit here for a while?"
"Take all the time you need".
I looked around to see if I'd see anything I'd want to keep. A t-shirt at the corner of the room caught my eyes, the same one she refused to give me because it was her 'lucky' shirt.
"I have your shirt now", I thought as I continued to packed the rest of the bands inside the box. Call me crazy but I think she wanted me to find that letter. I helped take all the boxes downstairs.
"What do you plan on doing with the room?", I asked.
"We're not sure yet. Did you see anything you wanted?".
"Yes, just one t-shirt. Is it okay if I come again tomorrow to look around?"
"We would love that and I'm sure she would too", Mr. Evans said as she hugged me.
The contents of the letter are really sweet, I think she may have wanted you to find it too.
It's can be so disheartening to lose our loved ones. It might be very difficult for the family and even more difficult for a lover of them to let go.
I am glad you found something she left for you. It's a beautiful note. Hold it close to your heart, i am sure it will mean a lot to her.
And enjoy her lucky shirt too. Smiles
The beautiful Cynthia, with such an original and fresh personality, is gone but leaves a treasure of memory and much love behind her. The narrator finds her last letter and with it a comfort. Thank you for writing this nice story for TIW and for the commitment you show to the community, @nelson-george.
I think I almost cried as I continued reading the story. It's obvious he misses her. But with the contents of the letter coming into light, I think it's good to say she did not want the narrator to be sad.