Jude Christopher Brahm,

Today when I was walking through the lobby to see you, I ran into this little girl. Or, I didn't really run into her. I just stopped to talk to her.

She's seven and her name is Georgia. She was in a car accident, too, like you. Her legs no longer do what she wills them to do.

She's paralyzed from the waist down.

It was nice to get to talk to her. She's a sweet little thing.

I told her about you, and she smiled a little bit.

"He'll wake up, I know." 

That's the first thing she told me. I asked her why she was so sure. (Even though I'm determined to believe the same myself.)

"Because I always know," she replied, smiling wider. "Just ask my mama."

So I'm not sure what to think, Jude, because her dad told me that his wife died in the car accident Georgia was paralyzed in.

What does it mean?

~ ~ ~

We'd been living in our little house for over a month, and I was starting to heal.

I was starting to relearn basic things, like smiling and laughing. I was unlearning some complex things, like emotional breakdowns and crying over everything that happened.

I was coming back to life.

It was partially the house, I think.

It was pretty empty, but that was okay. I knew it would be filled eventually, and then it would be happy.

That little house knew what I felt like, and I liked that. It made me love the little house even more.

You had gotten a job as a sales associate in a little antique shop downtown, so you were gone for part of the day during the week.

This allowed me to realize just how much I truly needed and wanted you around.

I swear, Jude, I went from believing that I could live by myself to knowing that I needed you for so many things--the main thing being opening jars.

Just kidding. I needed you for much more than that.

When you got home, it made me happy. It truly did.

And you, you'd come home and catch me and bundle me up in your arms, until I felt warm inside, and all of my broken pieces started to pull back together.

You loved me, Jude. I appreciate how much you loved me.

And I was relearning how to love you back.

"Hey," I said one evening, trying to get your attention.

Since I made dinner, you had volunteered to do the dishes. The trouble was getting you to hear me when the water was running.

"Jude," I said louder.

You turned your head, shutting the water off. "Yes?"

"When you're done, do you want to watch a movie?"

"Maybe," you replied.

"Okay." I turned away and walked toward the living room.

You continued with the dishes.

My hands were all knotted and shaky as I picked though our movie collection, trying to decide which one to watch.

It was less the movie I wanted and more you, though. I really wanted things to go back to the way they were, before the pain and before you were afraid to hurt me.

You walked into the living room and set your glasses on the side table, rubbing the bridge of your nose carefully. "What have you got?"

I looked up at you. "Um... I'm not sure what to put in. Help?"

You smiled and stepped around the couch to get to where I was. The carpeting squeaked when you sat down beside me.

"What are you in the mood for?"

"I don't know," I sighed, watching your hands as they moved through the movies.

You held up a dramatic war movie. "No?"

I shrugged. "I don't mind."

You set it down and dug through the pile to pick up another movie, this one a bit more romantic.

I shrugged again, smiling sheepishly.

You laughed softly. "You're not giving me much to go on here. Are you absolutely sure that you don't know what you want to watch?"

I nodded.

"Where did your voice go?" You ducked your head to look me full in the face, and grinned. "Don't tell me--a sea witch stole your voice, am I right?"

I giggled. "Not quite."

"Aww, now there's a word or two," you mused, smiling softly.

I looked down, heart beating fast. "I've missed you," I whispered.

You leaned closer, cocking an ear. "What was that?"

"I said, I've missed you," I said only a tad louder.

You smiled. "I've missed you, too."

"How much?" I asked softly.

"Quite a bit, I'd say." Your hand found mine, and you interlaced my fingers with yours. "It's nice to see your smile."

I looked down, taking a small breath. 

"You're doing better."

I nodded. "I'm doing better. I won't ever forget, but I think it's possible to remember tragedy and smile at the same time, right?"

Your smile lost a bit of its shine, but you smiled just the same. "Right."

I smiled back, studied you.

You were just as handsome as ever, but the last month had etched itself onto your face, into your spirit. There was a certain quietness that you had adopted, and a measure of guarded behavior.

And your hair was longer, as long as I'd ever seen it.

Your eyes were harder, but softer at the same time. But even though the expression in them was altered they were the same peaceful gray, like distant rain clouds.

And your smile...

You smiled, and it was all I could focus on.

It spoke of love and time and tears, but also laughter, playful bickering, and whispered promises.

And I couldn't stand it.

I leaned in, slowly, almost cautiously, and kissed you.

You responded immediately, bringing your hands up to cup my face.

It was soft, gentle, but I could tell that underneath your careful reserve, you felt fire. Much more fire than you showed.

"Jude," I murmured, searching your eyes. "I really love you."

You nodded, breath warm. "I really love you, too."

Our kiss was over, but you stayed close, breathing my air, legs brushed up against mine.

I swallowed, watching you.

You wouldn't look at me.

"Kiss me?" I whispered.

You dipped down and kissed me softly, briefly. 

My heart ached for a moment, and I closed my eyes, leaning my forehead against your shoulder. "Jude."

You sighed shakily.

"Just... please."

You swallowed so loud that I heard it, and looked down at me. 

I stared back, pleading.

There was a change in your posture, a relaxing in your face. You closed your eyes. "I'm sorry."

I smiled a little bit. "It's alright."

You opened your eyes, and smiled when you saw my smile. "Movie?"

I shook my head. 

There was a single beam of dying sunlight that slanted in through our window, and when you turned your head the way you did, it lit up your face.

It highlighted your eyelashes, it got tangled in your hair, caught against your eyebrows.

You blinked against it. "You're staring a lot," you said softly.

"Well, you're awfully good-looking, and I like your face."

You smiled. "Good to know. I like your face, too."

I laughed softly, looking down.

"What?" You grinned a little bit.

"Is it silly that I'm nervous?"

"Why are you nervous?"

"Because... I don't really know."

"I'm only me."

"I know."

You smiled.

You stretched out your hand to brush your fingers against my cheek.

"My God you're pretty," you said softly.

I kissed you. Simply, plainly, unceremoniously.

But it was the best kiss we'd had in a long while.

I stole your breath away, and you seemed determined to get it back, forgetting to be careful, forgetting to be brief.

You kissed me back with abandon, with fire.

When I pulled away, you stood up. "I... I need to go change."

"Jude, stay."

"I should get ready for bed."

"But I need you."

You shook your head. It was the slightest rejection, but it hurt.

Your hands were trembling.

"Please don't go," I whispered.

But you walked away, and I realized then that maybe you were as deeply hurt as I was.

~ ~ ~

It was a very confusing time, wasn't it?

I missed you desperately, but you seemed determined to stay distanced, just the way you had missed me in the weeks before and I had stayed so very closed off.

Why is existence so confusing?

When will you wake up to help me ponder this out, Jude?

(Because honestly, I can't do it by myself.)

Sincerely,

Aurora

~~~

Happy Mother's day, loves. :)

~Anne