Sentimentality

/ˌsen(t)əmənˈtalədē/

noun

excessive tenderness, sadness, or nostalgia

There has always been something about grief that tears a person apart, regardless of how strong how they are and how much they know that the person's death was for the greater good. I had found no person in the world who could look me in the eye and state that they were okay with someone they loved being taken from them in an untimely manner.

Having my own experience of loss to go off of, I began to watch Moira more and observe her tendencies as she began boxing up some of Calum's things. I had no idea what she planned on doing with them, but based upon the type of stuff she was packing, she only began putting it in boxes so that she was able to step into their room without having his fresh memory there.

Things such as his maps of the colony and area surrounding it were once strewn all over the desk within their room, similar to how Luke would do to our own room; however, as the weeks passed from Calum's funeral, she began to store all of those small memories away and hide them from her vision so that she wasn't constantly reminded of the presence she was missing.

Next came the small items that reminded her of their painful memories. The shot glasses that had collected too much dust since Calum had last utilized them in a drunken rampage, the pair of glasses that she had insisted he get when he complained that he could no longer read the distance on his gun's scope correctly, and so many more items that would have meant nothing without Calum.

Her stature began to deteriorate as she watched all of the changes in the colony before her very eyes. People were beginning to pack up everything they had and move out due to their ability to live in a free world and not be dominated by the oppressive government anymore. Families who had lost their loved ones began doing the same thing as her except their intentions were to move.

Nevertheless, each time that I would ask her if she planned on moving away, she would look at me with hollowed eyes and shake her head before returning to her work that was being made on the packing of the room. Slowly, posters of Calum's favorite bands started coming off of the walls and tears started pouring down her cheeks with each one that was removed.

Although the process was causing her pain, each time I attempted to touch something of Calum's she would bat my hand away as though she were the only one allowed to touch it. My senses were overwhelmed at the thought of her only wanting to bring more pain upon herself, but then again, I would be the same if it were Luke.

Small notes that used to lie disregarded on the ground were now organized on her bedroom table, each one containing at least a scribble of Calum's handwriting as though she couldn't bear to forget how he would loop his l's and e's together with cursive before returning to his normal printed style.

"Moira," I spoke up suddenly, having stood in her room for five hours and not been allowed to touch or help her in a single way. I began to grow frustrated, unsure of what I was supposed to do in those moments when she would completely shut me out and claim that she was okay despite her obvious mental breakdowns.

"Do you want me to do anything with these letters?" The question was innocent and helpful; however, judging by how fast she had turned around and yelled for me not to touch them, one would have thought that I had suggested I burn them within a fire. I cowered away from her, holding my hands up as if to surrender.

A small sigh exited her lips as she pulled her bottom one into her mouth, simply staring at the folded notes with a nostalgic look covering the expanse of her face. It was as though she were scared if she looked away from those scraps of paper that they would disappear and she would lose a piece of him again.

"Those were just his notes to me and I prefer if no one else saw them," she muttered under her breath, giving me a slight nod of understanding and finality before returning to her work with the boxes and tape. I sat on their bed once again, surprised that she hadn't had a panic attack when I suggested sitting in the most intimate place that she shared with him.

Silence took over the room as she continued her search for something, hands wildly running through her curly locks as she pushed boxes out of her way and allowed them to fall haphazardly across the floor without another thought. Whatever she was looking for was something very important as I observed her frantic state, which had never occurred in the past two days I had been present.

"I can help," I told her quietly as I found myself lost in the thought that there was something so precious to her that she would toss aside every single box of her memories with Calum in order to find it. Nothing came to my mind of importance as she went into their closet, which still held many of his clothes that carried his strong scent.

"He left it somewhere in here," she cried out, her hands trembling as she threw boxes containing many of Calum's old clothes or shoes aside and searched relentlessly for the item in question. I furrowed my eyebrows as I noticed every single memory or packing box was strewn out of the closet with only a single piece of parchment paper left lying on the wired shelf.

She said nothing more as her fingers gripped the piece of paper in her hands as though it were her lifeline and she was unable to let it go without falling apart further herself. Nothing made sense to me as she treated the paper like it could break at any moment; however, it was clear that the parchment was fairly new and not at risk of crumbling.

That was when I put the dots together and assumed that the tiny piece of paper meant so much to her for a greater reason than why the other notes meant so much to her. It was the note that he left.

While Luke also had a note resembling the one Moira held in her hands, I was under strict orders from him that the note was to only be opened in worst case scenarios, which was what had happened to Calum. I found tears streaming down my cheeks when I placed my hand against it in a sign of shock.

Luke had explained the purpose of the letters to me only once in our entire time together, only showing it to me after I was taken as he was scared by the thought of his leaving and my inability to cope. Flashbacks of the moment when Luke had told me of the gravity of the situation floated into my memory as I recalled the exact terms that he used for it.

"It's like a final goodbye letter," he explained cautiously, almost as though he were scared of my reaction to the information that he was entrusting to me. "We all make them in case something we to happen and we were unable to get home." I remembered the tense air in the room as I held onto his frame in fear that I would be in a similar situation as Moira was in.

Moira let out a sob of relief as she allowed her teardrops to fall upon the paper while she gripped it tightly into her chest as though holding the last piece of her heart in her shaking hands while tear stains marred its outer shell. I had to hold myself back in those moments, knowing how important it was for her to have those final moments with only her and Cal's memory.

Silently, I made my way from her room and went back to my own in order to keep myself from wondering what he had written for her. I had heard stories of the loved ones finding their notes within the room of the person they lost, but I had never actually witnessed it in its full effect until I saw Moira's shaking figure clutching that small piece of paper tightly in her arms.

When I finally made my way into mine and Luke's room, I was emotionally drained, too tired from the stresses of the colony becoming a thing of the past and people moving out to find their own dwellings to even acknowledge his presence as he stood with arms open wide to embrace me. He shook his head when I toppled onto the bed, laughing at my tired appearance.

"I thought that you would be a while since you were helping Moira pack and all," he stated, more of a question than anything as he wrapped his body around mine in a cuddling position which made me relax from the tension that had been building in my shoulders. When I shook my head at his assumption he only let out a sigh as though he understood what had happened.

Since the last raid to Central Office and the vaccines being distributed to everyone willing to come to the colony, Luke had been relatively not busy, only having to check up on small items on the agenda like the dwindling population of the colony and making sure that all of the people leaving had their files on hand.

Those past weeks were filled with much one on one time with Luke and I as we had been more than willing to spend time together before we would become busy with our own plans for the future. While it had never come up that we would be leaving the colony, it was assumed by both of us that we understood that this place would never truly be our home.

"So I was thinking of asking Ashton if we could have that cabin that you stayed in," he mumbled into my ear finally, taking me off guard as I twisted in his hold to stare into his eyes for a moment, not understanding what I was hearing him say. Sure, I knew that we were planning on leaving, but I never assumed that it would be so sudden.

He took in my facial features, obviously understanding where I was coming from as he spoke up with a few more details of his plan. "We would have to have a few things fixed and furniture replaced," he said with a grimace, obviously referring to the table which held massive amounts of blood staining from bullet wound operation.

"But we could make that our little home and Moira could live in one beside it," he continued on, his voice drowning out every bit of doubt that was reserved in my head as I once again relaxed in his muscular arms and allowed his lips to graze my ear gently. I found myself picturing what our life would be like in that cabin, loving the feel of the small house for our small family.

"I would absolutely love that," I whispered against his lips as he smiled that unforgettable smile that always seemed to take my breath away for no reason besides how beautiful he was both inside and out. At that point, I never doubted that the blonde haired boy would always have me swooning and following after him at his every word.

However, the feeling was obviously quite mutual as Luke practically worshiped the ground that I walked on, treating the treads of my shoes as though they were made by some sort of goddess while she roamed the earth. He was everything that I wanted and more in life, and he had a way to him that made me fall deeper in love with him with every moment.

Luke was my home and my protector in every storm that life could throw at us, which made my heart sing with excitement because I knew that I would never go through life without him. Despite knowing the temporariness of those moments, I felt secure knowing that he would always and forever be mine to hold and care for.