chapter forty-nine

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          
Eliza
                          
In the weeks that pass after Leon's death, things are excruciatingly difficult for me. For the first two weeks, I barely move out of the bed in the carrier house. The pillows still smell like him and the memories of us waking up in bed, naked and together, are still fresh in my mind.
                          
The next two weeks are just as difficult, if not more, but I manage to find the strength within me to go to work and move all my belongings out of the house James and I had been sharing and find my own apartment. The first few days, Tenille stayed at my new apartment with me just to make sure I was okay. It was nice to have her stay with me, but the funny thing about life is that even if you don't want it to continue, it moves on; the sun sets and rises, people get up and go to work. Things move on.
                          
And, you also begin to heal.
                          
It's subtle at first – very subtle, but just like any other situation, the small things begin to add up. I grieved over Leon's death for weeks upon weeks, spending my evenings crying and wishing I could have done something to prevent the outcome. My days in bed while I, longed for him to walk through the door and collapse onto the bed beside me and tell me about his day. I missed his kisses, his laugh, his extraordinary eyes, his beautiful smile. I missed his cocky attitude and genuine heart. I missed how capable of he was of showing me how much he loved and appreciated me.
                          
I still do.
                          
But now that two months have passed and the funeral has been held and Leon's ashes are safely back in Newfoundland with his dad, the pain is no longer at the forefront of my mind. I've accepted what's happened. It was hard to do, but I managed to achieve it by thinking of it as him having passed to a better existence. He's far away from all the pain and suffering of this world, spending quality time with his mom and occasionally checking in on me. I know he would want me to accept reality and move on. Never forget him, but move on. In the end, all Leon ever cared about was my happiness. And if I hang onto him, he can't be at rest. What's happened, happened and I can't change it.
                          
Although I've accepted what's happened, that doesn't mean I don't think about our memories. I do. A lot, really, but with a different context. And, rather than them making me cry, they make me smile again. His life ended too soon, but at least we got to spend as much time together as we did. At least I got to have someone as genuine and sweet and handsome and remarkable as Leon in my life. It was a blessing to know him, to have the chance to fall in love with him. To find us again.
                          
I still have a long way to go. I don't think the pain of losing him will ever fully fade away, but I have to keep fighting. I have to do it for Leon.
                          
It's what he would want me to do and I owe him that much. In all the years we spent together, he was there for me. He was someone I could always count on. I wish I could have thanked him for everything, but part of me thinks he already knew how much I appreciated him, loved him. I hope so, anyway. I hope he saw it in my eyes that night we made love. I hope he heard it in my laugh. Felt it in my touch.