chapter eighteen

                                    

                                          
Time passed slowly; without a trace, as if it didn’t exist anymore. Slowly, Norma began to realize what life- and not just life, but life… what living meant. She began to understand what it was to wake up every morning to Nat King Cole and Devon jumping on her lap, screaming in her and Harry’s faces, yelling, “You gotta get up, Norma Jean! You gotta get up!” She began to realize what laughter was when Gemma would call into their room from the kitchen, “Devon, call her Miss Mortenson please,” and Devon would respond with, “Can’t I just call her Auntie?”
                          
She began to understand what it meant to be happy. She wasn’t happy- yet, but she began to understand what the definition of that term meant. She began to coin the term happiness with the smell of baked bread sitting on the counter at half two, she began to associate the term joyful with her crawling out of bed with one of Harry’s old dress shirts on and going into the washroom to brush her hair and wash her face. She began to remember the word glad with the image of her picking up her mascara, undoing the lid, lifting her arm up to swipe some on her lashes, and Harry coming in from behind her and pulling it out of her hand. You’re beautiful, always so beautiful, and you don’t need makeup.
                          
She began to understand what it meant to have a family. Even though they weren’t her blood family, she began to understand what it meant to have one. She began to expect Louis to burst into the small apartment at half past eight, as Harry was lazily spooning granola into Norma’s mouth and giggling as she jumped at Louis’ arrival and the granola landed on her shoulder. She began to anticipate all eight of them, cramped onto the sofa watching Toronto beat Chicago at the Stanley Cup, she began to learn to laugh, to really l a u g h when Niall swore and threw the bucket of popcorn into the air, she learned how to dance in the falling kernels while Louis rattled on and on about, “Goddamn Canadians, do they even know how to lose hockey?” and Liam and Zayn stared into each others eyes and she thought that was when she realized what love was. Staring at Harry across the room, broken, buttery popcorn kernels underneath her feet, dancing to the cheers of a few thousand ecstatic Maple Leaves fans.
                          
She began to understand what it meant to feel accepted. Arthur sent her a letter two days after she and Harry spent the day playing Monopoly; it read simply Will be in London for another week. Should arrive back on the 3rd of August. No explanation, but Norma wasn’t stupid and she could read between the lines… He’d found someone new to shag and ruin and burn and yet, in the irony of it all, she was okay with that. Somehow, she felt more accepted at Harry and Gemma’s apartment than she ever had in her entire life. She bought Devon that firetruck; a brand new one, bright red, and when he blushed and said thank you at least a dozen times she began to understand what it meant to feel satisfied. She helped Gemma make lunch and supper, she learned how to make chicken cordon bleu and homemade apple pie, and when all eight of them sat squished around the tiny dining room table and Louis worshipped her cooking skills, she began to understand what it meant to feel proud.
                          
When Niall took her to his favourite bookshop in downtown New York, and bought her The Last of the Just, when he told her to smell the pages like they were the cure to whatever poison she inhaled, she began to understand what it meant to imagine. When he took her to Coney Island and took her to the top of the Ferris Wheel, when it stopped when they were at the very top, he made he stand up with him and she shouted, spinning around and around and jumping and hollering and she began to understand what it meant to be free. When they were back at the apartment and Niall found one of Norma’s half-finished poems, written mostly in French, he asked her what it says and when she told him he whispered softly, “that’s beautiful,” and Norma began to understand what it meant to feel.
                          
When Liam was trying to figure out a math problem for one of Devon’s arithmetic classes, when he pulled Norma down beside him, shoved a calculator into her face and said simply, “Can you please help me,” when she got the problem right on the first try, when he looked up at her with a wide smile and said, “Now can you help me figure out if sandalwood and psychiatry are words?”, Norma began to understand what it meant to be valued. When Norma found Liam pacing the balcony outside Gemma’s bedroom, when she pulled his hands away from his stomach where his fingers were twisting at his shirt, when she asked him, ‘what’s wrong?’ and she learned that he was going to propose to Zayn that night, when he practiced his speech on her at least a dozen times and, at the end, hugged Norma tightly and whispered, ‘thank you’, she began to understand what it meant to be constituent. Later, when Zayn was finished eating, Norma was the one who tied a blindfold around his eyes and led him outside to the balcony- all alit in fairy lights, a beautiful, stunning backdrop to the bustling city behind everyone already there- Louis, Niall, Gemma, Harry, Liam, little Devon. When Norma took off the  blindfold to reveal Liam on one knee in front of Zayn, when Norma saw Zayn cry- nodding yes, yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you, when Liam made a toast to Norma in ‘thanks of helping her man up’, she began to understand what it meant to be respected.
                          
When  Zayn took Norma to his favorite tattoo parlor the day after the engagement, when he handed her a cigarette and said slowly, “I’m getting a bird on my ribcage… what do you want?” When she said, “L'amour ne périt jamais,” like it was the most obvious thing in the world, when he looked at her incredulously and laughed slowly- “I like you.”- she began to understand what it meant to be cherished. When she went home and proudly showed off the bold tattoo on the back of her shoulder, when she smirked and blushed when Zayn detailed how ‘she didn’t even flinch, she was way braver than Louis was on his first time getting a tat’, she began to understand how it felt to belong. When Harry and Norma sat watching the sunset- no makeup, no mask, no Marilyn, just Norma, when Harry got up to grab Norma a sweater, when he passed by Zayn’s easel and smirked, when he locked eyes with Norma and whispered, “You gotta see this.” When Norma padded over to Zayn’s easel- a common recurrence in their apartment, the tray at the bottom splattered with various acrylic paints that had been spilt over the decades, when her eyes focused on the beautiful portrait he had captured on the canvas- when her fingers brushed over the paint, seeing herself captured in mere colours and shapes and sizes, when she heard herself say, “it’s so beautiful… like the stars,” when Zayn whispered in return, “you are a star,” she began to understand what it meant to feel beautiful.
                          
When Louis was about to dump half a jug of lemonade on Norma’s head the day that they spent in the sun at Asharoken Beach, when she moved out of the way just in time and he ended up spoiling his own towel with it, when she cringed- expecting him to blow up and exclaim that it was her fault, when instead he laughed until he cried and pulled her down to the sand with him to bury Niall in sand, when he winked at her after she’d sprinkled a fine layer of sand into Harry’s sandwich, when he picked her up and gave her a jolted piggyback ride into the water, when the sun set but she was still in the water with him and Devon, playing find-the-ten-dollar-bill-Louis-drops-into-the-ocean, when the city lights were sparkling off of the reflection of the rippling tide, when she looked at Louis and he smiled at her wider than he’d ever smiled before, she began to understand what it meant to be brave. When Louis spread cream cheese all over her face while she was sleeping, when she woke up to find him three inches away from her face- just, staring- when she rinsed off the cream cheese to find that it had broken her out in acne all over her face, when Louis just laughed at her reflection- but not at her, but with her, she began to understand what it meant to be special. When Louis convinced Norma to help him make caramel apples (with onions, not apples), when he spilt half of the boiled caramel mixture all over her $400 dollar shoes, when she simply laughed and smeared more caramel sauce on his jacket, when Louis offered a caramel onion to Niall, when Norma got the perfect picture of the first bite, when Niall spent half an hour swearing at Louis and Norma as he brushed his teeth, even though he was laughing, she began to understand what it meant to be special.
                          
When Harry wrapped her in Navaho blankets he’d gotten on a trip to Wisconsin, when he took her to the top of the Chrysler building and they watched the sunset, they watched the city lights for hours- not speaking, just sitting in silence, when he kissed her again and again as the wind blew her hair and made music in her ears, when he took her home and fell asleep to the sound of her heartbeat and the memory of the wind’s, when she awoke to no alarm, no rush, no panic, no stress… just heartbeats and love and a kaleidoscope of memories that she would never forget, she began to understand what it meant to be unique. When he took silly pictures of her- watching TV,  reading Niall’s book over Niall’s shoulder, helping Gemma make mashed potatoes, playing with Devon’s fire-truck, watching Zayn paint, helping Liam write an article with glasses on and no bra. When he traced constellations onto her hips, when he smiled so big her heart felt like it could burst, when they spent all day  in bed playing Monopoly and eating  fondue, when she realized she hadn’t worn any makeup whatsoever in at least five days, when he made her feel like the only girl who would ever impress him, she began to understand what it meant to be alive.
                          
Living was so much more than just breathing, she realized.
                          
Living was laughing, being happy, being joyful, being glad, having a family, being accepted, being proud, being satisfied, imagining, being free, feeling, being constituent, being respected, being cherished, belonging, being brave, being beautiful, being special, being unique.
                          

                          
Living was trying.
                          
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okay okay im sorry for being late
                          
but THIS CHAPTER i am so proud of it
                          
dedicated to @wrecklesscreation, thanks for your sweet words and for being a new reader!!