Page 53 of Through Quick and Quinn
yea no problem
remember that one fourth of july
7:39 p.m.
With the night flower?! How could I forget?
7:41 p.m.
right?! I literally thought we were going to blow up the neighborhood
7:43 p.m.
That was the reason we got smart and had a bucket of water and a hose on hand from then on, LOL
7:45 p.m.
for sure
7:57 p.m.
Ok, well, have a good time tomorrow.
Happy Fourth of July!
7:58 p.m.
same
Wednesday, July 3, 2024
Note to self:
The last five weeks have been utterly bizarre. The minutes ticked by in an excruciatingly slow manner, and yet now that the month has passed, it has become a blur of meditations in Troy’s Zen garden, tense conversations with Mom, quiet walks to the waterfall, and bookstore visits with Dad.
Being in the Zen garden still brings me so much peace, and as I do body scan meditations while lying still on the sand, I can sense my baby brother’s presence through the stillness. I found myself needing to visit there quite a bit recently, as it seems like Mom and I are frequently butting heads now. I know this is her first time with a child so close to high school graduation, and surely that fills her with a plethora of emotions that she’s not sure how to handle, but apparently the only way she knows how to deal with those feelings right now is to jump down my throat. If she isn’t snapping at me about college applications, she is berating me with a barrage of questions regarding my future to which I do not have any answers yet.
The quiet walks to the waterfall were the hopeful moments, the ones where I imagined I’d bump into Quick along the way or arrive only to find him already there, enjoying the sounds and the scenery. But each hopeful hike ended in disappointment, as I walked back home after an hour or so with my head hanging low in shame, wishing I could earn Quick’s forgiveness and trust again. Dad must have sensed something in the earlier part of the month, because he started offering to take me to the bookstore after my waterfall visits. Books are so good for my soul, and I am continually astounded by how much information is out there, waiting to be discovered. Not only did I add a few new feel-deal-heal techniques to my repertoire, but I also ventured into the gardening section and discovered the vast world of herbs. As a matter of fact, I am drinking a cup of holy basil tea right now, since it is shown to alleviate physical and emotional stress.
I miss Quick, but I’m trying to move forward in a positive way. I really am. I’ve dealt with loss before, a much deeper one than this, and at a much younger, less mature age. But here I am again, finding myself with an undeniable chasm. I really don’t know how else to explain it. I feel like part of me is missing.
I’ve reached out a few times, probably once a week or so, just to say hi. He hasn’t responded to any of my texts. It stings, but it makes me realize how much I hurt him. I worry that I made things worse for him, because each time I think about it, I am more convinced that he never considered the possibility of trafficking when it came to Geoffrey until I slammed it in his face. If I know Quick at all, the idea probably haunts him 24/7 now. So I get why he’s done with me. I messed up pretty badly. I have to accept his choice and move on as best as I can.
Interestingly enough, Mandy has been reaching out and even suggesting we spend time together. I felt nostalgic tonight as we texted about our childhood Independence Day celebrations, but in all honesty, I’d rather make new memories with Quick than relive old ones with her. Poor Quick. His family doesn’t celebrate Christmas, so surely they don’t commemorate Old Glory with fireworks and popsicles. That’s sad. He should. He deserves to have sparklers in his life.
Sigh.
…Q
+ + +
Hey Geoffrey,
Tomorrow’s your favorite. You used to call it “Boom Boom Day,” which always cracked us up but you never understood why. And when you were extra little, like around three, you’d get so excited for the festivities that you’d squeal, “bed, right, and boo firecwackers!” Everything made you so frickin’ excited, Geoffrey. You were truly the coolest kid.
So yeah, tomorrow’s the Fourth of July. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that, yet again, we won’t be lighting any Piccolo Petes on the street and we won’t be picnicking at the park to watch the big firework show either. We’ll skip it, like we have all the other holidays since you’ve been gone.
Maybe we shouldn’t be skipping the holiday, or any of them for that matter. I know why we do, because we would feel guilty to experience any of it without you. But maybe we’re looking at it all wrong. Maybe it’s about experiencing it FOR you, like to honor you. That’s all I want to do. Honor you.
