A breeze from the north ran across the semi-frozen pond and whistled through the trees above me. I pulled my coat up tight around my body and continued to trudge through the thinned underbrush, ignoring the burs clinging to my pants.
Beside me walked a male, older than a boy but younger than a man. His military styled blonde hair offered little coverage from the dancing breeze around us. How many times had I run my fingers through that hair? It became oily three hours after a shower, yet never looked greasy. His back was straight, as if the weight of the world was nothing to him. Yet his eyes, his observing blue eyes told the full story.
Divorce. Atheism. Heartbreak.
We stopped in small clearing, barely big enough for the two of us. His arm snaked around my back and pulled me close.
“Le-” I looked into his eyes and saw the pain and it began anew. Large droplets of water ran down my cheeks and seemed to freeze, as if all time had stopped.
“Can’t we do anything?” I quivered through the tears and racking sobs.
He sighed and looked through the dormant trees and across the pond, “At this point, there’s just been too much interference.”
“Do you think it could’ve worked?”
His fingers stroked my face and wiped the tears away, “Perhaps. Maybe in a different time.”
The world shifted before my eyes. I saw a time when religious differences didn’t matter, where the new norm for families was a complete set of parents and where everyone was tolerant.
“Levi I don’t understand why you can’t suck it up and go. One time won’t kill you,” I said.
“Because your beliefs are yours, not mine. I can’t change who I am just to fill the needs of others.”
I put my hand to my mouth and forced the bile back down into my stomach. This wasn’t happening. I wasn’t becoming like our parents. I wasn’t! My hands shook. I punched the frozen ground as hard as I could and felt the resounding pain.
Everything I did was for others! I hid the pain so others wouldn’t feel the awkward obligation to help me. I spent several hours each week doing favors for my classmates. I attended church and tried to show the friendship between tolerance and religion!
“I hate you!” I screamed. “You’re no different than our parents. When relationships get hard, you give up! You’re not willing to understand the beliefs of others! I wish you-”
My palm against his face. The words I didn’t finish. All the damage done. A KO.
“Why do you hate yourself?” He asked.
No retaliation. Just the perfect way to manipulate the feelings of others, by revealing the truth.
“Because I’m not perfect.”
The wind gusted hard and I shivered against the frigid air. All that needed to be said would never be. I blew it. The leaves rustled and tumbled about, breaking the silence between the two of us. I tightened myself up to attempt to take up less space and hid my face from him.
“Lucy,” his touch upon my back was like that of cold fire. “Let’s get you home.”
The whisper from his heart chilled me to my very foundations. This would be the last time he’d love me. The influence of his anti-God mother coupled with the ultimatum of my parents came to a head; I wouldn't hug him again, watch anime together, hike outdoors, play Monopoly, or do anything else with him.
He was my best friend, my boyfriend, and here I was wasting my precious God-given time.
We stayed there for a long time. Cuddled together to fight off the cold winds. We didn’t speak. How could emotions be put into words? If anything that night, I wished God had given my feelings the words to speak. Some way to express the pain, fury, and passion I had felt.
One day the hatred between people will be voiced in something healthier than a war of misunderstanding, where the only victors are those who remain impartial and had no emotional investment.
Until then, the pain and agony will be nothing more than brief shouts into a cold winter’s night.