38. Chapter 38
Ispent the weekend with dad. I wished I could call our confrontation healing or therapeutic, but it was necessary.
So many tears, apologies, and promises of action.
Our relationship needed direct action to mend things.
The rift was deep and scabbed over. Nothing would be quick.
All I could do was continue working on me and hope Dad would step up, too.
I found myself counting down the days until Summoner was back stateside. I missed him desperately and wanted his advice on how to navigate the road ahead. After a trip to the bookstore, I walked into my building and greeted the mailman placing mail into mailboxes.
“Hello!” He smiled.
I usually let my mail collect for several days before checking it. Besides bills, bill reminders, and worthless coupons, I got nothing of use. The envelopes and flyers just cluttered up my counter.
“Anything for 3b?” I asked politely.
He nodded and unlocked my box. I grimaced as mail spilled out. The mailman took it in stride. He retrieved the wad of correspondence and handed it to me. I muttered an ashamed thank you before attempting to shuffle upstairs.
“Hold on a sec.” He smiled and pulled a cardboard sleeve from his pack.
“Poppy Thomas, 3b, right?” he checked.
I nodded. He handed me the parcel and marked it as delivered in his handheld. There was no return address. Confused and very intrigued, I rushed upstairs. Junk mail littered my kitchen counter. I ripped open the sleeve and pulled out a single sheet of paper.
I recognized Summoner’s handwriting. Reading my name in his handwriting gave me the same rush of dopamine as hearing my name from his mouth.
My amusement was fleeting. As I read, my smile fell away. I physically recoiled from the paper. A substantial shock assaulted me like an invisible blow to the chest. It robbed me of my breath. I couldn’t breathe. My legs couldn’t support my weight, so I dropped onto my futon.
Poppy,
I will keep this brief.
Our lives are at two different places.
Our paths headed in two different directions.
I’m sorry to say, a relationship between us wouldn’t work out.
Our time together will always hold a place in my heart.
Reality slowed as a black emptiness surrounded me with the familiarity of an old friend. I was so tired of crying, but my eyes didn’t get the memo. Warm trails of sadness streaked down my face.
I love him.
That thought was coherent. That thought made sense.
All the other thoughts in my head were intelligible noise.
Poppy loves Summoner. Summoner loves Poppy.
For everything that was confusing in my world, our love was a bit of clarity.
Now, that worldview was disrupted. I buried my face into the futon cushion and screamed.
I screamed for the things I lost. For how much I gave.
For everything I had found that was now gone.
I screamed until my voice broke. I screamed until my pulse thudded violently in the veins that reached up my neck and stabbed my temples.
I screamed until I couldn’t anymore. Chest heaving, I collapsed onto my side.
The coolness of my drool and snot against my face was only a fraction sobering.
Through my tears, my poster of Summoner on stage mocked me. The taunting came from my head, but seeing him added another layer of hurt.
I love you!
Those words were a knotted ball of heated rage.
Because even when I didn’t know him, I loved him.
Summoner was a safe space in the fog that was my life.
And just when I was foolish enough to believe I was worthy of something as good as love, he shattered my heart into a million jagged pieces.
Pieces too sharp to pick up. Too many pieces to attempt to reassemble.
“I love you!” My painfully strained whisper dissolved into the couch cushion.