Still With Me

So there you are. Victoria’s eyes said this and more.

Here we are, reunited after so many years. Attending a ceremony to consecrate love, the happy consequence of our own. I remember our love, Jeremy. It could have been a thing of incredible beauty if everything hadn’t gone wrong. If you hadn’t tried to kill yourself. If you’d understood earlier that you were the man for me. If you could’ve healed yourself. If…simply put, if you’d remained the man who, on his twentieth birthday, with only a few words, made me understand I couldn’t exist anymore except by your side. We could’ve gone far, somewhere at least. Arrived here together. Sat side by side to admire our work and be proud of this new flame born out of the desire to surpass our own. But look at us, Jeremy. You in a wheelchair. Your face frozen. And me, a grandmother trying so hard to look young. And in your eyes, the only part of you that seems alive, I read the same regrets of the life we lost.

And Jeremy answered: Yes, this is our reunion. An incredible and useless reunion. Our lives are connected. And today, right before I die, destiny lets me glimpse my failure and hear the echo of the long cry of my loss.

I came to say good-bye, Victoria. To pay final homage to the luck that somehow escaped me, like water held in the palm of my withered hand, draining away without satisfying my thirst, just enough to wet my lips and leave me with the faintest impression.

How can I tell you how much I’ve suffered over the harm I did to you? How can I tell you how deeply I regret the life we could’ve had together? How can I tell you that I would’ve been happy to sit by your side today, proudly watching the fruit of our love write itself into the story we started?

Why tell you all that? To suffer even more before I go and leave you with my regrets, the last trace of my passage on earth?

I leave nothing, Victoria. My life is a void. A black hole that absorbs all light. A black hole, Victoria. A long tunnel where the ends are too far from one another, letting me glimpse the light of the sun and feel the sweetness of the wind before sending me once again down a lifeless path without you, without me, until the next opening.

Before death, I think you’re asked to justify your life before the abyss can transform itself into abundance. What claims can I make in the face of death? A few days of life, their meaning lost in the minutes that came before and the ones that followed after.

I still love you, Victoria, as in the first days.

Because those are still my first days.

Victoria took her place in a seat next to the chuppah with her back to Jeremy. Next to her, an elegant man acknowledged Jeremy with a smile that showed more pity than kindness. Victoria seemed embarrassed. She sat too properly in her chair. She knew Jeremy had seen the man beside her, and she knew what he must be feeling. Then the guests came in to be seated, and Victoria disappeared. Jeremy felt his energy extinguished. He’d spent too much time concentrating on the effort to resist his senile wanderings.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. Pierre was standing next to him. He was an old man, bald and stooped. But his eyes were still lively and quick with intelligence.

He seemed divided between the joy of seeing his friend again and grief over the circumstances.

For Jeremy, even if he wasn’t a friend, Pierre was the one who had supported Victoria during the most difficult years, and Jeremy was grateful.

“Hello, Jeremy. I’m happy to see you.” Pierre was quiet for a few seconds.

“It’s hard talking to you. What is there to say? It’s true—over the years, I thought about this day. I had it all worked out, believe me. I’d give you a piece of my mind, find the exact right words to hurt you.” He shrugged his shoulders bitterly. “As if that were my style. But okay, I was hurting pretty badly.”

Pierre paused again for a few seconds, reliving moments from the past, so long ago for him. “What meaning would it have today? We’re two old men the past won’t leave in peace. I mean…It’s probably worse for you. I know even if you still only remember a few birthdays, the memories are more alive for you, more heartbreaking. Mine seem so far away that sometimes they’re not even mine anymore. And then, I have to admit, you did me one hell of a favor. Clotilde was not the right girl for me. I started my life over, and I’m glad I did. I won’t go quite so far as to thank the asshole you were, but…I know what you did to protect Victoria and the kids. I understand the strength of your love for her. It’s all so unfair, Jeremy. So much love, yet so much unhappiness.”

Pierre took a deep breath.

“We barely have time to turn around before death has us cornered. Life is too short; that’s what the old folks say. When young, we won’t hear any of it. We keep steering our hopes toward something we call the future. The word is misleading. It gives you the sense that there’s some eternal race. But life comes to an end without ever making sense. Today, my wealth and my dignity as a man, a father, a husband, a friend—that’s the inheritance I leave for my loved ones, so they’ll stop chasing after their future and start working to build a past.”

A few disgruntled murmurs started to shush Pierre. The rabbi was speaking.

Pierre’s hand squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder. “All right,” he said, “I’m going to sit down. I’ll find you again later.”

Once again, time refused to move at Jeremy’s pace; the ceremony lasted only a handful of seconds.

When the prayers began, Jeremy started to tremble. Every word, every intonation brutalized him. His blood turned to ice, and cold sweat pearled on his forehead.

“Are you okay, Grandfather? Why are you sweating like that? Hey, is everything all right?” Julie asked, concerned. Realizing he was having a crisis, she took advantage of the moment the guests stood to push his chair as discreetly as possible toward the exit.

She wiped his forehead. “Do you want me to get someone?” she asked. “Seems like you’re doing better, right?”

A voice cut in. It came from behind. “Go back inside, Julie. I’ll take care of your grandfather.”

The girl seemed concerned. She wanted to catch the end of the ceremony but wasn’t ready to leave Jeremy’s side. “No, I’m going to stay with him,” she replied.

“I assure you, you can go back in,” the voice entreated her, soft and firm. “Your grandfather’s doing better already. I’ll stay with him. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, and I’d like to talk with him for a minute.”

The man took the handles of Jeremy’s wheelchair to show his determination.

Julie smiled at her grandfather. “Is that all right? I’ll come back and see you in a minute.”