I was nothing but a glimmer in his bright eternity
25
I felt lighter after crying out half my body weight on the way to the airport.
There was no shame in it, and I thralled the driver to forget about it while I additionally thralled him to give me the free ride. Hypnotization was how I’d be getting everything I needed for the foreseeable future—since I certainly didn’t have any money.
While it never seemed like Riftan was working real hard at being a mentor—and more like he was showing off every once in a while—he had taught me a lot. At the top of that list of things was how to get anything when you have nothing. That was a fundamental lesson I’d utilize the shit out of for the next couple of months. I was certain of that. Unfortunately, being able to thrall myself any array of transportation was of no use if I didn’t know where I was going.
That’s where a map of Europe and a short game of blind darts with my finger came in handy. The first country I landed on was a small one I’d never heard of, and my guess was that the language barrier would make matters tougher than I was willing to deal with in my condition. Without Riftan’s multilingual qualities, travel would definitely be more difficult than it’d been when we were together. The second location I’d blindly picked was one Riftan and I had already been to together, and it wasn’t somewhere I wanted to return without him. The third time I dropped my finger on the map, I may have been half peeking and aiming in the France direction. In the proximity of where my finger landed, I settled on Paris, where it’d hopefully be touristy enough that my language barrier wouldn’t matter. It hadn’t mattered much in a big city like Prague, after all.
After that, it was only a hop and skip over a few countries, with the help of hypnotizing myself some aerial and land transportation, before I was in one of the most famous cities in the world.
The heart of Paris hummed with the constant whisper of music on the wind. Buildings lined both sides of every street, stacked close on the cobbled sidewalks, but here they were much more uniform; the symmetry of the geometric brick buildings lacked the many tall spires and medieval architecture that broke up the roofline in Prague. The most notable difference was that of the Eiffel tower, which jutted above everything, taller than any of Prague’s many crenelations.
Breathing in the smell of freshly baked breads from my balcony, I vowed to make the best of my situation. If anything could keep me out of a beckoning depressive state, this would be it—my real eat, pray, love journey.
It was three years late, but Riftan had forecasted this moment before we ever left Creswell. Now, I just needed to read the book, so I could know what the hell an Eat, Pray, Love journey really consisted of.
Update: the book sucked.
Two hundred pages in and nobody had sex. I’d like to say I toughed it out and finished it anyway… but I didn’t. And while the ideas I got from it were somewhat relevant to my situation, finding myself through food and spiritual meditation wasn’t so profound when I couldn’t eat normal meals and my kind was shunned by literally all religions.
Only eight days into my little adventure, I was staring up at a glass chandelier with half a bottle of wine propped under my arm. Thankfully, the floor of my expensive hotel was plush, and I wasn’t uncomfortable laying on it. In fact, between my velvet blanket and the short bristles of the carpet, I’d found some comfort in running my hands over the surfaces—a tick I thought I’d kicked back when I’d adapted to my senses.
The movie I’d left playing on the flat screen had ended a while ago, but I was too drunk to want to get up and put on another. That left me in a half-lit room, void of noise save for the occasional honk from outside. In eight days, I’d learned how adverse isolation could be for my disposition. I recognized that, but acknowledging it didn’t make it any easier to fix.
I went out often, fed more than was necessary, and tried to talk to new people. But at the end of the day, I still slept in an empty bed, ate my meals by myself, and had nobody to laugh with. So, when I was alone in my room, I preferred noise—any kind that could distract from my solitude. But when the movies came to an end or the playlist ran out of songs, I couldn’t stop my asinine mind from wandering into the silence.
It always stumbled upon the stupidest questions, begging to know: How long does this feeling last? Is it an eternity? Can I really bear it that long?
Doubting my eternity always summoned thoughts of Riftan. He’d warned me about all of this: how much more heartbreak hurts as an immortal, that I’d hate feeling it for eternity, that I’d see it as a curse. He was right about all of it, which made me wonder if he’d felt it all himself. I wondered if he was feeling it all right now, like I was.
Tears sprung to my eyes when I imagined him on the floor of our condo, mimicking the sorrowful position I found myself in now. But the thought was fleeting because I knew deep down that he’d lived too long to let this bother him—he’d definitely moved on already.
Sitting up, I took a swig of wine from my bottle, attempting to drown the feelings like Riftan probably would—if he had any.
I was sure he had plenty of ways of forgetting about me, and I liked to think he’d utilize them—or I liked the idea of him needing to utilize them, but when I actually thought of him doing so, all I could imagine was that it involved other women in our bed, soothing his nightmares and giving him all the things I never got to.
The bottle in my hand shattered under my grip, splintering into a thousand tiny shards and spilling what little was left of my specialty cabernet onto the carpet.
“Damn it,” I whined, shaking off the blood from cuts that had already healed. “That was my last bottle.”
Stumbling off the ground, I grabbed my phone by the bedside with the intention of checking the local liquor store hours. When the screen flashed, I squinted, blurrily making out a new message.
Jameson’s contact name, JJ,sobered me up quick.
Three missed calls and two texts.
My heart pounded, but I couldn’t tell what for.
I should have called Jameson a week ago, when this all happened, but every time my finger lingered over his contact name, I trembled. I had nothing to fear from J, but I was still scared to call him.
He was my best friend, but he was Riftan’s, too. Though I knew he’d choose me over Riftan any day, calling J would mean having to talk about what had happened. No doubt Jameson would be ready to help me, prepared to wipe every tear and stitch up every broken piece of my heart however he could. Maybe that’s what actually scared me most—knowing how easily J could make this sadness disappear. He could snap his fingers and every emotion I felt over losing Riftan would be invalidated.
I couldn’t let that happen because these were emotions I was meant to feel. All of the misery and heartbreak were proof of Riftan and my time together. They left a sickening ache in my chest that felt like my organs were simply giving up and crumbling out of my body, only a hollow void left in their place. The pain was a physical manifestation of how real everything we had was, and I wasn’t willing to give that up, no matter how awful it felt.
My phone vibrated.
“Fuck.”
This was another one of those moments when I hovered over the JJ badge on my phone, too shaky to return a simple text. My heart pushed and pulled, begging for the welcoming sound of Jameson’s voice but fearing its effects.
His message blurred under my teary lids. I needed to talk to someone, and I knew it should have been him—or a therapist—but like the brutal masochist it was, my heart wanted to hurt. It seemed to be calling the shots yet again, taking control like it’d done for so many years with Riftan.
Frantically clicking the back button out of Jameson’s texts, I landed an errant finger on the contacts icon on my home screen. It was in the J’s—probably because the last person I’d called was Jameson a couple weeks back. Below him was Jayleen.
We hadn’t talked since Creswell, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss her. She was the only person I loved who had nothing to do with Riftan. Her memories weren’t associated with him in any way, and she didn’t have the power to make me forget about him altogether.
I stared at the phone a long time before hitting call.
The line rang.
My heart thumped in my chest, fingers tingly from more than the wine. The feeling heightened for several monotonous rings, a bodily indication that I might be making the wrong decision.
I bit my lip, eyeing the red circle on my phone screen.
Calling Jayleen was a bad idea. She’s mortal, after all. Someone I left back in a past life I wasn’t supposed to return to.
Her voice was on the other end, her chipper tone clenching my stomach into knots. “You’ve reached Jayleen, leave me a message!” Beep.
“Umm, hey, Jay… It’s Leanne. I know it’s been a while, but give me a call, I guess… Whenever you’re available. Or don’t, it’s not a big deal.” I hung up the phone. Hardly catching my breath before it was ringing in my hands.
I connected the call but hadn’t gotten it to my ear when Jayleen was already speaking through the line. “Leanne? Is that really you? I recognized your voice in the message. I know it’s you! Where are you? Where have you been? Are you alright? Tell me you’re safe.”
“It’s me. I’m safe.” The statement was awkward as it left my mouth.
“And? Where have you been!”
“Well, that’s a little bit longer of a story.” I laughed, but it was uneasy.
“Well, holy shit. I’ll cancel my plans, start talking!”
I did, a weight lifting from my shoulders as I shared with her the last three years of my life. I had so much to share, and she stayed on the phone to listen to all of it. Riftan, Prague, our condo, I weaved a truth about all of it without ever telling her what I’d become. Topping the honesty sandwich, I told Jayleen the profound truth I’d never actually admitted to myself. “I was an idiot for thinking I’d be anything but a meager glimmer in the face of his long and bright eternity.”
“Well, I don’t know what this poetic eternity thing you’re going on about is. While it sounds very romantic—I don’t know that it quite suits the Leanne I know.” She took on the mom tone I was versed to hearing from her after I suffered a bad breakup. “I’m going to be honest, and don’t take this the wrong way, but none of this sounds anything like you. I mean, staying with some guy you aren’t fucking for how many years? Letting him push you around for nothing? Not even a little finger action? If it weren’t for your voice on the phone, I wouldn’t believe it was really you talking to me right now. Not to mention, I’ve never met a man who wasn’t putty in the hand of Leanne Cowitz.”
I offered a measly breath of laughter through the phone. “Ha, I used to think the same thing. My confidence has kind of crumbled after this whole situation, though.”
“Well, that doesn’t suit you either. I don’t like hearing these kinds of things, Leanne. I don’t like hearing you sound so depressed, and I don’t like hearing you doubt yourself. If you tell me where you are, I swear I’d be on the first flight to you. I don’t care if it takes every penny from my house fund.” She sounded like she’d really do it, too.
“Actually, you wouldn’t believe it, but I’m in the heart of Paris right now.”
“Oh,” her determination faltered. “Well, I don’t think I can afford a plane ticket to Paris. It’s super expensive and crazy far away.”
She pulled a real giggle out of me this time. “That’s quite alright, Jayleen. You don’t need to fly to Paris to make me feel better.”
“I would if I could. Seriously, Leanne. I really miss you.” Her saddened tone grabbed my heart.
“I miss you, too. More than I can tell you.”
“Do you think there’s any possible way you could come back to visit me sometime? Even if for a moment so I could see your face again? I know you have things to worry about here, like Johnny, but what if you just stopped through town?”
I shouldn’t have considered her request. The answer needed to be downright “no.” If I went back to Creswell, it’d be a mistake. There were a lot of immortals there, which could be good for me, but there were a lot of people I didn’t want to see, too. Yet, home called, and if I couldn’t go back to that condo in Prague, then Creswell was all I had left of a home.
“Jayleen…” The thought was escaping me before I had the foresight to stop myself. “If I did come back, would you let me stay with you for a while?” I didn’t need her charity. I could easily get my own place that was much nicer than hers, but I was sick and tired of being alone.
“I’d love for you to stay with me, but is it a good idea for you to stay for long? What if Johnny finds out you’re back?”
“Don’t you worry about Johnny. That’s my problem to deal with.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I promise I won’t be putting myself in any kind of trouble, seriously.” I tried to assure her with the confident tone of my voice since I couldn’t outright say, “It’s Johnny who should be scared of me.” That wouldn’t make any sense to Jayleen—more than as a comical joke.
“Then my door is open to you, girl. I’ll be here to pick you up, waiting desperately for your arrival.”
She wouldn’t be waiting long, because I was already throwing on my shoes and zipping up my suitcase. There was no doubt in my mind that it was wrong to return to Creswell after I’d gone to such great lengths to separate myself from it. But at this point, why should I care? If deciding to become immortal was wrong, and everything Riftan and I had was wrong, then did I want to be right?
Screw right. I was going to go home to learn my lessons the hard way.