Pieces of Me

He slammed the door. It was the first time he had done that.

He stared at the ground. The people below seemed so small, so insignificant. Tears blurred his vision but he wiped them off with the corner of his sleeve. He didn’t know why he felt sad all of a sudden.

Julia’s last words to him were – he couldn’t remember exactly. He was angry at her before she left. Angry at himself for not coming to terms with his own feelings, how loved her and hope there was a place for him in her heart, too. But he knew it would scare her away – perhaps even further from him. She was always in his thoughts and for a while he waited for her to come back. But now he knew she never would. And maybe it was best that he couldn’t remember their parting words. So that he wouldn’t have anything to hold on to. No memories, just fragments of her scent, her touch that lay on his soul, piercing him gently.

He once awoke to the sound of quiet sobbing, and then realised it was a dream. Only that it was not really a dream. The next day, his eyes were both red and puffy, like he had cried the whole night.

He remembered that it was a May wedding. May was a good time to have a wedding. After the examination period, just before the holidays so people were still in town. He was invited. He did not have to turn up, but he did. He sat at the middle row, making himself inconspicuous amongst the sea of well-wishers. Julia was always popular. No one knew her radiance was helped by a bit of botox and plastic surgery. No one did have to know. But he knew. He remembered every curve of her face, every contour. In his mind he could run his fingers over them and just feel comforted.

He saw an accident Friday night. Two cars, hit by a construction truck. For one dreadful moment he thought it was Julia’s car. And that she was gone. But it was not, and he heaved a sigh of relief. Then he thought to himself. It’s still the same, whether she is dead or not. He realized that he had already mourned her demise for years.

He went on to university and graduated top of the class. Not because he was natuarally intelligent, but he knew she would be proud. One day as a teacher’s assistant in the university, he saw her. He thought he saw her. Julia. But it was only someone that looked like her. Curious, he started a conversation shyly and realized they had much in common. His past hurt was replaced by a new love that was blossoming inside.

Before long, they were sleeping with each other almost every other night. He wished he did not have to wake up, fearful that one day she would be gone, just like Julia. But she was always there for him, and he loved to rock her in his arms to sleep, just as he would a little kitten.

He never told him about his broken family, and she never mentioned hers either. Somehow it was just something that they never talked about. He thought that perhaps she also had a difficult childhood. She was alone, like him. He felt no need to tell her about Julia. After all, she wanted out of his life. Leaving him for a guy he had trusted and then making sure he was well-provided for. He never touched the money. He saw no need to – he wanted to live independently.

He knew he had to make a decision. It was not a mistake. It was love- born out of hurt and betrayal and pain, a love so pure that only they both knew was true. Yet, both held eyes of sorrow as they looked at each other for perhaps the last time.

He wanted to tell her that life was unfair, that it wasn’t anyone’s fault, just a sickening coincidence that they both happened to have the same mother. He knew now why Julia had left- she was with child and she had to marry the father of her baby. He was only 5 then. She was 5 years younger than him, but seemed mature beyond her years. She loved her, as well. Julia was kind to her. A mistake made by Mama, and now I am bearing the consequences. He was bitter at the fact that he never knew, never was told of her existence. If only he knew her name.

They decided that to live with the guilt of loving each other would haunt them for the rest of their lives. He still remembered the days he spent in a daze when he saw an old photo of Annelise’s parents who had died years ago. He instantly remembered the face of his mother. Her mother. Their mother. He recoiled at the thought that Annelise was his sister. And for days, he could not bring himself to tell her, but eventually, she found out.

He must die. He knew it in his heart. A part of him had died when Julia left. Now, in the footsteps of Julia’s legacy, he must leave Annelise, too. Only the happy memories will remain, and nothing else, he told himself.

He slammed the door. Everything went black.