CHAPTER ELEVEN : DEAR DIARY.

Fulfilling her dream and her heart, Tamara Streeter-Getter was now leading the life she had always wished for in Italy, with her wonderful husband Derrick Getter-Streeter. Derrick was now a certified animator, working for the biggest names in the city of California, USA. His job required him to fly in and out of Florence frequently. Tamara was accustomed to his absence- her paintings and the gallery kept her busy. Her fantasy of her paintings being displayed in some of the most respected and illustrious galleries in Florence and the whole of Italy was now a reality- a reality she longed for. Her paintings, which used to put her pain and hurt on a pedestal, now were a reflection of the happiness and the vivacity she now felt. Total of six paintings were on display, except for one. One she kept hidden under a sheet- one she held dear. Tamara could not have asked for a better future with Derrick and she knew that she would happily grow old with her husband and ride into the sunlight, peacefully.

Shane Pax was happily married and was blessed with a sweet daughter, Raleigh-Tenae Texas or “RTT”, as he liked to call her. He had completed his doctorate and was in the private part of the business in psychology. But life hadn’t been a sugarcoated ride for him always. After watching his supposedly love of his life get married in front of his eyes and having to let his dead friend go away, he was in shambles. His mind had been fixated on one thing- to mend the broken things in his past. That’s when he had found himself in front of Portia Texas, his first love. “Shane?”, a perplexed Portia asked, when she found the person who ripped her apart emotionally on her front door, “I thought you were in Alaska or somewhere?”, she asked, confused. “I was”, Shane said, trying to catch his breath, “But I had to make a stop here. To try.”, he said, hurriedly. “To try and what?”, she asked, with gross confusion. “To try and fix things.”, he said, with his breath in his control and his gaze on her eyes, “Can you give me a chance?”.

Forgiveness came in three stages for Portia- the first requiring complete forgiveness from her side, so that no bitterness remained, freeing the wrong doer. But Portia was reluctant to forgive Shane for what he did- he took her world in his fist and crumpled it beyond repair. For the second stage, the wrong doer should feel utter regret and must understand what they did, be truly sorry and take steps to make the necessary amends. If they do that, the second stage can be achieved- the stage where the broken relationship could be revived. It’s only after this redemptive phase that it was appropriate for the one at fault to forgive themselves. Seeing Shane after years had dug up the feelings she had buried deep within a hole- a hole she never managed to fill it with the love of another. No man had been of her desire and she had discarded love from her mind as though it was nothing more than a pair of shoes she had outgrown, but now she walked barefoot.

“I am guilty, Portia. The guilt is in my guts and flows through me like ice. It could be a hundred degrees outside and I’d be still frozen on the inside. I cannot melt it on my own.”, he looked up to a teary eyed Portia, “The pain stops when you’re with me. Or it at least used to. I know what I did can never be undone or hid, but the least I can do is to help you to forget it.”, he said. Portia had missed Shane when they split, but seeing him in front of her, begging for her forgiveness made her realize how much Shane meant to her. Portia’s nostrils engulfed the delicate hint of the vanilla in the air and her mind was flooded with the memories with Shane. His face was just as handsome as the first day she met him, his eyes twinkling with love and his contagious smile. So much time had passed since then and all she had was the occasional fleeting memory. She always knew that no one could replace him. “I love you”, she blurted out. Shane looked at her with surprise. Her face fell and that’s when Shane put his hand on her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss. The emotional state Shane was in, the pain he was going through- Portia was the solution. He always wondered if the reason things did not work out with Tamara was because of his undying love for Portia. He never knew that she would forgive him for the pain he bought to her- he regretted it till his demise. But Portia had realized something- something she wished to have known a long time ago. It’s not just other people we need to forgive. We also need to forgive ourselves- for the things we did not do. For all the things we should have done. Shane remembers the words he had whispered in her ears on the day of their wedding. “Just know that”, he had paused, “There will always be a part of you in me.”, he had said and looked at the charming bride, “And I am grateful for that.” Portia always carried those words close to her heart when Shane was not around. And she carried them with a heavy heart when he had passed away.

The sky in the city of Florence was a reflection of the city itself- draped in various colors that brought nothing but joy to the eye and the mind- the sky was a canvas for Tamara. She glanced at the one painting that would never leave her home and her heart- the one which made her doubt everything. She decided to go out for a walk, in the hope of finding any inspiration for her next painting. She walked along the Lago di Bilancino, which was one of the many staggering lakes in Italy. The dying sun and the water mimicking its colour reminded her of the person hidden in her painting- more of a memory, perhaps. Derrick used to pester her with questions about the painting but Tamara was reluctant- she was allowed to have her own secrets. The ache of longing to be with him echoed through the very marrows of her bones. It was like a chilly wind trapped in her heart and her mind would rehearse a new letter to him with every idle moment. She never knew that missing someone could take over every fiber of your being and would wring you out like a wet sponge everyday. It was a torment she was unprepared for. But something hit her harder- her heart trembled with pain and her mind was refusing to believe it- to believe that he had passed away. When she received the news, her whole world collapsed- lights turned to shadows and the connection she had believed to have with him was gone forever. Tamara knew that her time had come- her time to be alone.

Love and sorrow, the twins, came rushing to Portia when she heard about the attack. She rushed to the hospital he was being attended to and like her previous experiences in hospitals, never received good news. The doctor came out with a dejected face- a face which was tormented with the pain and loss all around it and was fed up of it. Portia fell down to the ground in agony and could not bear her world being torn apart again. Her daughter pranced towards her wailing mother and did not have a clue as to what ailed her. Portia hugged her innocent daughter and wept, but she always knew that Shane was a part of her daughter. There is a point in trauma when the empathy from the people around you does the healing it can. After that, it is all up to you. The time comes to let go of the training wheels and walk free and past fear- independently and bravely. Shane had always praised how brave and bold Portia was. But now, when he was gone, Portia doubted herself- could she walk alone now?

A tear rolled itself into Jamie’s eyes, overflowing and rolling down her cheek and falling down to the ground, blending itself with the rain. The look in her exhausted eyes could have broken anyone’s heart. She cries silently, her eyes puffy and red. It’s the kind of cry that’s only seen at funerals, only felt at funerals. The kind where the tears aren’t alive, but lifeless and the death of a loved one seems surreal. Sam hugged her tight, holding her close in the rain. His other hand held the umbrella over their heads, keeping them dry. Sorrow creeps at the corners of his mouth, dragging them down, jerking the tears. But he held them back. He could not lose his dignity. If he cried, Jamie would lose it. He held them back, for her. Struggling to hold back the grief, tears flowed steadily, silently down immobile faces. Feelings were bruised and numbness, emptiness brushed the coffin as the people paid their respects and said their goodbyes. “Death, my child”, the priest spoke, “Is straightforward. It is not a gate to immortality, but a simple departure from life. It is inevitable and he does not discriminate. He is neither fair nor unfair, unmoved by the prayers that grasp him through the nights and days, like a frozen status among crowds.”, he said. Portia did not lay much attention to his words -she was in pain. “Mommy?”, a clueless Raleigh-Tenae asked her mother, “Where is daddy?”, she asked and looked up to her mother, who was in loss for words. Portia held her tears back- she knew that she could never let her daughter feel what she felt. She bent down to her daughter and said, “Daddy is just gone for a while.”, she paused. She was in a conflict with herself- she could not decide either to lie and let her daughter live in a bubble of deceit or let her face the pain. “He will be back for you”, she said, with her voice cracking, “And for me.”, she said and hid her face in her coat as she wept. She hugged her daughter and looked at the gloomy sky, wishing that wherever he was, her father was looking after Raleigh-Tenae. They say that you die twice- when they bury you in your grave and the last time somebody mentions your name. Portia knew of this quote but only understood it when she lost someone she loved. She promised herself to mention his name at least once a day, in desperate hope that it would keep him close to her. But it hurt. She knew that every time she would mention his name, it would hurt.

And with flowers in front of the headstone and words said, the funeral ended. The people walked away in the rain, slowly, despite the chilly wind and water. They walked through the other graves, treating them as if they were meaningless, just another body six feet under. The mother and father gave one last goodbye, from her a sad weep, from him a bitter farewell. Soon, the only person remaining was Tamara. She wore a black hat and dark jacket. The hat kept her dry but the red of her hair was visibly wet. She looked at the headstone and hung her head. It had been years and yet, her heart ached. She always had one question- did Shane steal a part of her or did she keep a part of him? . “They say that pain dulls with time. That it heals things.”, she said, looking at the grave as the howling wind blew her hat off her head. “But how can things be better if the only reason it doesn’t hurt is because I have forgotten everything?!”, she yelled, tears rolled down her cheeks, “I no longer see you in strangers and the things we shared once no longer bring tears to my eyes.”, she said and looked up, with the rain dripping down her face, “But if getting past the pain means forgetting you”, she paused, “Then I choose to suffer my entire life.”, she said and fell down to the ground and held her face in her hands, sobbing. She knew that the biggest agony was not missing someone badly- it was not being able to tell them that you miss them. She placed her hand on the headstone’s face, tracing the words with her fingers. She plucked out a page from her jacket’s pocket and placed it among the flowers and the cards. It was a page from the journal Shane had gifted her before they parted ways. Outside her door, Portia found a canvas that was delivered to her address. Curious, she ripped apart the packaging and tried to make sense of the view in the painting. It depicted a sun setting over a lake, with numerous building around it. The orange tinge of the sun was beautifully reflected in the dark blue water. A fence and two trees finished the painting. But one detail baffled Portia- a man was in the center of the picture. No color was attributed to him other than black. But she could make out his attire and his hair, which was drawn with precision. He seemed to lean against the fence and watch the sunset, probably with someone he wanted to be with. But his partner was never in the picture. The only explanation Portia could come up with was that the man was waiting for someone- someone he loved. But the person never showed up. Portia looked around for the signature of the artist and found a small “TSP” signed at the bottom right of the painting. She was always someone who appreciated good art and so, she hung the painting in the living room, for everyone to see. Something about the silhouette of a man in the painting gave peace to her heart.

The paper was now drenched in rain and the ink was blotted. The howling wind was strong enough to blow it away but it did not budge- as if it was holding on to his grave.

“Dear diary,

Today, I realized something. The person I should have spent my life with is dead. Someone I missed, someone I cared for, someone I loved- has left this place. And I regret not telling him that I needed him and that I loved him. Today, I realized that I am alone, again.”