Closure

When I looked at my half-empty shelves and the packed suitcases, I was surprised to find how there were few things which reminded me of him; two things to be precise. The globe, soiled by circles made by his marker, and that one memory that wouldn’t stop nagging me, no matter how I hard I tried to forget it.

I spun the globe around and let the memories of detailed itineraries of our proposed world tour swirl with it. I inhaled deeply. When you end a relationship, you’re left with so much clutter to clean up. For a long time, you put off the task of going through the clutter. You tell yourself you’re tired, you will get to it the next day. But you aren’t tired, you are scared, bloody scared that you might find a handwritten note, a gift, a broken razor, an empty perfume bottle, or anything that would make you get back to him, within a heartbeat. And finally, when you gather enough courage to clear the clutter, you would be surprised to find some really good, useful stuff among them. I guess, for me, it was the bunch of itineraries. At least, all of the deliberate planning we did, wasn’t completely futile after all. But, I know it wouldn’t be the same without him. A dull pang of loneliness would shadow every moment of freedom, a vague sense of wistfulness would tamper with every moment of wonder, heavy drops of emptiness would trickle in when I stand before the wide, mighty oceans.

In fact, nothing would be the same without him. But then, I realized that maybe I don’t want anything to the same, ever again. I want change, change of scenery. That’s my only antidote, my only means of escape. And what could possibly provide a better change of scenery than a world tour?

I smiled as my heart swelled with pride. Going on the world tour before he could is probably my way of showing him that I’m finally over him. But almost immediately, I felt my smile fade. If only I could forget that one memory that drags me down everytime I think I’ve moved on! I bit my lower lip.

We were lying on the lawn in his backyard. I remember how he whined about my hair tickling his shoulders. I laughed.

“I wish I could record that, and play it in my head over and over again”

“Oh shut up, marshmallow!”

This time, we laughed together. I didn’t know if it was worth playing over and over in our heads, like he said. But the sound of our laughter blended so well with the chirping of the crickets and the melancholic song of a lonely nightingale from far, and travelled into the night sky, creating imaginary ripples in the air.

I snuggled closer to him. I couldn’t see, but I knew he was smiling, smiling wide.

I hummed a tune softly.

“Which song is it?” He asked.

“It’s…..” I began.

For a long moment, we listened to the crickets and grasshoppers chirp together as if they were trying to impress one another.

“Oh my! I can’t seem to remember”

“It’s such a familiar song”

I nodded vigorously, probably letting my hair tickle his shoulders further.

We spent most of the night trying to guess the song. When we grew too tired to think, and our words became too slurred to make sense, we finally gave up.

Next morning, I woke up, catching the scent of the grass in my hair and with the sun smiling down right at me. I saw him jog towards me with a bunch of wildflowers in his hand. As he leaned over me, with a smile that suggested he had been waiting for me to wake up since forever, I noticed how the sun rays formed a halo around his head. I sat up on my elbows, feeling confused.

“Will you marry me?” he asked, thrusting the wildflowers into my hands.

I laughed, cried, tried smelling the wildflowers, and then chided myself for doing so, before saying yes thrice. Yes-yes-yes, as if one yes wouldn’t suffice for the big question.

I adjusted my glasses while I scanned the road for my cab. No, there were no tears left. They had all been shed.

For some reason, I couldn’t shake the stupid, baseless belief that finding out the song could help me seek closure. Because, I couldn’t stop believing that somewhere, in a parallel universe, he brought me wildflowers everyday, and our little Lily always asked why they had no fragrance, unlike the flower she was named after.

When I climbed into the cab, I debated with myself whether I should tell him that I was going on the world tour before he could, that I’m better travel freak than he is, maybe even with a subtle tone of triumph in my voice. But no, nobody wins in a heartbreak. I was suddenly overcome by a faint, lingering ache of a wound that I had forgotten about. What happens to the wounds that we had forgotten about, but hasn’t really healed yet, anyway?

I sighed. Maybe the fact that there is no closure is the only closure I will ever get.

I peeped through the window to see the vehicles, stuck in the traffic. The cab driver grunted and pushed buttons on the car stereo. The voice of Anne Marie singing Ciao Adios, filled the cab. I adjusted my glasses and tucked a strand of my hair behind the ear. The signal turned green. It was several moments later when my eyes widened with recognition. I felt my whole body become numb. When I recovered enough to speak, I asked the driver to stop the vehicle. I rushed to a nearby phone booth, which I considered a relatively private place.

I fetched his number from the part of my brain that stores the numbers I no longer dialed, the birthdays of people I no longer wished.

He picked up in the first ring.

“Hello, Marshal! Remember how we were struggling for one whole night trying to figure what song I hummed?” I finally found out the song!”

“Oh Ann, I’m so glad you called. I had been wanting to call you, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it”, he blurted out, totally ignoring the announcement of my latest discovery.

I went on, “Listen, the song is Ciao Adios.” “By Anne Marie” I added after a slight pause.

He didn’t respond. A pregnant silence reigned over us. I stifled a smile. Suddenly, in a parallel universe, I couldn’t find him nor the Little Lily, there was only the void, staring at me. But for the first time, the void didn’t scare or depress me. Now, the void meant a blank space that could be filled with brand new memories, that didn’t involve him.

I broke the silence by clearing my throat, that needed no clearing.

“I’ve got a flight to catch. Ciao adios, Marshal”

I hung up before he could respond.

I jogged towards the waiting cab, feeling the joyous relief of closure and the exhilaration of new beginnings sweep over me.

Originally published in my blog!