Page 108 of Finding Hope

“I’ve got you,” she promises. “Look at us. Look around you. You can let your guard down, because we’re all here to protect you. I swear I’ll always have your back.”

I purposely, consciously, open my fingers one at a time, and when the string escapes my grasp, I watch the white balloon float toward the dark sky.

“Good. Now tell her something else. Tell her everything. Don’t worry about pollution, we won’t get arrested. I’ll make sure of it.”

Laughing, choking, crying, I accept another balloon, and in my peripherals, I watch my sister hand out balloons and markers to my family.

Nodding, I write again,“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”

Britt’s eyes turn sad, almost disappointed. “I don’t think you have anything to be sorry for. But if you feel like you’ve gotta say it, then let the balloon go.”

I do. I let it go, and I let the weight ease from my chest.

Now that the floodgates have opened, I take a handful of balloons and write everything I can think of; I write about our first date. I write about her freckles and hair. I write about the golden-yellow flakes in her eyes.

The guilt slides through my belly as I write about the first time Steph and I made love. I angle my balloon away from BrittandSteph’s dad, because neither of them need to see my words. I write about the virginities we gave up for each other, and the sex talk I was given when my brother thought I was already experienced.

I wasn’t.

I was in love and thinking ahead.

I tell Steph how thankful I was that she chose me, and how she kept me humble, how she kept me grounded. How she was there for me every single time I needed her.

With every balloon I release into the dark sky, the guilt I’ve been holding onto for a year lessens. Like a coil wound tight in my gut, each message I send helps unknot it.

She didn’t give her life or dreams up for mine. She was my partner, she was my equal, and she wanted the same things I did.

Every couple minutes, I glance over to watch Britt write on her own balloons, but just like she doesn’t ask me to read mine aloud, I don’t ask about hers.

She obviously has something she wants to say. I’m okay with that.

Eventually, as our group releases the balloons and we’re down to just three, I take one and tell Steph that I love her, but that I love Britt, too. I ask for forgiveness, and maybe her blessing. I send it floating before Britt can see it, because I’m not ready for that conversation yet.

Releasing one at the same time I do, Britt’s balloon races with mine. The string tails wind and dance together, and in their rush to get to Steph first, they disappear into the darkness long before I’m ready.

“One left,” Britt murmurs softly.

I nod. “One left.”

“Anything you wanna say? Don’t worry… if you want more, I can get us more.”

I think long and hard. I think about what I’ve told her already. I recall everything I apologized for;everything. And everything I loved about her;everything.

I look at a weeping Marian as her husband comforts her, though tears slide along his cheeks, too.

“There’s nothing left to say but to introduce you.”

Britt’s shy smile wobbles. “You wanna introduce us?”

“Yeah. You said she’s catching these on the other side. So…” I take the marker and begin writing. “Jack and Bambie.”I add today’s date, then step forward and take Marian’s hand in mine. Turning the balloon so both women can read it, I wait for their watery eyes to meet mine.

This is a big moment.

This is me introducing Steph, Britt,andMarian.

I would’ve gone my whole life dodging Marian in the store so I’d never have to introduce her and Britt. I would’ve spent a lifetime eating the guilt for being with Britt and never gathering the courage to tell my dead girlfriend’s mother about her.

But now she knows.

---