Page 192 of Unspoken Words
Ellie died in my armsthat day by the river, and when Beth, Roger, and Chris made their way to the water’s edge from the campsite, I still wasn’t ready to let her go. But I had because she’d wanted me to, because I couldn’t keep rocking her back and forth forever, and because ever since the day we met—since I’d lost Aaron—she’d been preparing me to find the strength within to say goodbye when I would need to again. With her spoken words, her smile, her laughter, light, and love, Ellie had taught me there was always anand, and that in letting go, you still held on.
You held on to your memories.
But in true Ellie fashion, she’d had a back-up plan in case my hold slipped. Reminder notes. Much like Christina’s diary. And for the weeks that followed her passing, I kept finding her notes in the most random places, such as the underside of the sugar bowl lid.
One, maybe two.
That’s all you need.
Yes, I’m watching.
And in the linen closet, on top of the sheets.
Tuck it in,
nice and tight,
out of sight.
Yes, I’m watching.
She’d even stuck one on my front door, next to Trevor Trout, which I hadn’t noticed until Mum pointed it out on the day of Ellie’s funeral.
Kiss me.
Kiss meeeeeeee.
That discovery had led to my first breakdown since she’d died. We’d just buried her and celebrated her life at a wake I don’t even remember, and to come home and walk through the door as if she were there and talking to me had hit me hard. But as I’d sat slumped on the entryway floor, my head in my hands, my face tear-streaked, it had also shone a light on the purpose behind her notes; to let me know she was still there. Always. And no matter how distraught I’d been, that simple notion had picked me back up off the ground.
It was now three months on, and discovery of her notes were few and far between, until I opened my guitar case and the familiar, ruled, off-white paper floated to the floor and landed by my feet.
Bending down, my pulse quickened as I picked it up and unfolded it, finding the lyrics to a song Ellie had written on her own.
Kinda Perfect
You were there in the sun
copper hair, my hole in one.
Stole my breath
Stole my heart
Watched the stars
We’d just begun
It was all kinda perfect in our perfect kinda way
In our perfect kinda way
In our perfect kinda way
Two souls that speak in silence
touch each other from afar
Locked in your head
