LOVE HEARTS AND LIES

Knock knock. Who's there? No-one.

The wind gently stirs the trees, but the air is heavy. Held aloft by four burly men, the imposing solid pine coffin is a few meters ahead of us. I’m like a robot, sometimes casting a look to the right, a look to the left.

A smile suddenly crosses my lips when my eyes rest on an immaculate statue that seems to rise from the ground. A weeping angel who does, however, have something to celebrate. This cemetery, located on the outskirts of town, has something magical. Fascinating. As if, underground, the departed were drinking to their beautiful and joyous lives, rather than rotting and becoming dust.

On this July morning, Sara is ready to join them. Where she is, she’s probably wearing her grinning smile, laying her mischievous look on me and mocking my black dress as far too strict and depressing. This image cracks my heart. A tear runs down my cheek. Melony offers me her handkerchief scented with lavender. She also put on a black dress, but this was accompanied by a huge bright red hat with pins. It looks a little like a disguise, but on the way, she explained that it meant: Goddamn it to hell! If you come to get me too, I’m ready to receive you!

“I can’t believe it’s been eight days since she left us...” I whisper as we go along the gravel driveway.

My mother squeezes my hand a bit in hers and the procession continues its progress until we reach the plot of land where Sara is about to be buried.

So, I’m not dreaming. They’re going to bury her.

I shall never see Sara again.

Uncontrollable sobs seize me; I can’t breathe and lean against Melony, herself in tears. The sadness, the injustice, the violence of this situation makes me want to scream, but I just moan on her neck. To lose the one who gave you everything, one who was always there, against all odds, it’s inexplicable. Indefinable. It hurts.

My father has always been a part of my life watching me grow, educating me, cherishing me. It was everything I needed. With a father like him, I’ve never wanted for anything. Now I’ve lost them both.

I leave Melony’s comforting shoulder and take my place alongside my mother and father, facing the hole in the ground. Around us, a hundred people smile at me sadly and silent emotion shakes my heart again. I cast a glance at the burial place, for the moment empty, then the coffin is ready to go underground. If she had been here, at my side, Sara would have found a little naughty joke to whisper to me, just to make me smile. But today, this is indeed her that we’re burying.

“A mother is supposed to die before her child,” my mother whispers painfully.

“I’m still here. I still need you.”

“Oh, Harper...”

It’s difficult to breathe as my mother crushes me against her. I whine, not knowing if I’ll laugh or cry, then detach myself from her when the priest begins his speech.

The last farewell.

I’m not ready...

I see the mouth of the man in the cassock moving, but no words, no sound comes up to my ears. My body is here but my mind is elsewhere. I don’t want to hear that Sara is nothing but a wonderful memory. Her entire existence, all the love that she carried, all her achievements are now enclosed in a box.

“Sara isn’t here. Not really,” I say suddenly in a high voice, strong enough to interrupt the priest.

All eyes turn to me again, I feel it. Melony puts a hand on my shoulder, probably thinking I’m delirious, I smile at her and push back her gesture. I’m not a small thing that she must save at all costs. I can express myself without falling apart. So, I let the words flow, coming closer to the coffin.

“Sara didn’t expect this of us! Wherever she is, Sara is already living her second life! This ceremony, she would probably say it’s a waste of time—to see us crying in front of her framed photo—she would probably find that hideous if asked.”

A few laughs come here and there, Melony seems to completely agree with my theory and adds, tears in her eyes:

“She’s drinking l****s and l****s of fluorescent and chemical slushies!”

Even the priest is relieved.

“She may well be tired of seeing us clustered here, while she leads the good life. And she doesn’t need to be reminded of how much we love her and how much we’re missing us. She knows...” Melony concludes by giving me a helping shoulder.

The laughter fades. The priest resumes his ceremony, faced with faces a little less closed, a little more serene. Tears flow down my cheeks; I no longer struggle to hold them back.

Each made their farewell, relatives of Sara parade in front of me and sometimes offer me a compassionate smile, a painful frown, or a happy wink, then the coffin covered with flowers slowly descends into the ground. I stare absently. Sara is somewhere else. She frolics in a meadow, on a beach, somewhere, free as the air.

By convincing myself to believe, I’ll end up believing.

The assembly begins to move, the priest indicates that the ceremony is over and walks up to me. Caught in an act of cowardice, I let Melony hang on to him and I take a tangent towards my father.

I can’t decrypt the expression on his face, in his intense gaze. Nor do I understand the meaning of his arms folded over his chest.

“We’re here to bury Sara, damn it!"

“I know, I’m sorry Dad. I don’t want...”

My father sighs and runs a hand through his messy hair and then looks to Sara’s grave, his eyes suddenly filled with infinite sadness.

I take a last look, as if, despite my anger, I’m afraid I’ll never see him again, and then turn around and head in the direction of the large cemetery gate. I must get away from here. At once. This is vital.

It’s at this point that I notice in the shade of a White Oak, a figure dressed in black from head to toe, watching me intently. I stare into his piercing blue eyes and my heart stops, then restarts in fast-forward. My legs don’t feel as stable as a minute ago. Shocked by his presence, I stare at him for an eternity, until he opens his mouth and his chest rises as if he too lacked air. Scarlet cheeks, I turn abruptly and stare at the ground to calm myself.

Tristan and I, it had started with sparks. Until the day when the sparks transformed into a thunderbolt. Tristan loved me, but he decided to leave me. He went to the city and our lives separated for good. I loved him, but I accepted his choice.

Until today.

No, I have reached my limit.

I dry my tears and leave the gravel driveway. I now walk on the grass towards the exit. My heels sinking into the ground, I take my shoes off and increase my pace.

I look back and see that the priest doesn’t seek to detain me, too busy answering Melony’s questions—inappropriate, I’m sure. A look to the left, and the cemetery gate appears, evidence that my escape is ending. A look to the right and... I change my mind. Tristan is still there, motionless, standing under his tree, his face turned towards the funeral in the distance. I forgot the almost arrogant beauty of his profile, the delicacy of his features, in contrast with the strength that emanates from his body. And now I go in his direction, without really knowing why, or what I’ll say.

The sound of my footsteps warns him of my arrival. Tristan looks at me suddenly, intensely. Like before. Now close enough, I can see his blue eyes narrow.

I accelerate a little more and finally come up to him. I had loved him so much, but now... nothing. Time has done its work. I stand before him barefoot and heartbroken... but no words come out. Not one damn word. I stare stupidly. I’m drowning in his eyes, torn between sadness and anger. Tristan stays perfectly still, a metre away from me. He seems to move his eyes to every corner of my face, then softly speaks in his hoarse voice, pushing his hands in his pockets:

“You okay?”

“Dumb question.”

This response escapes me. Of course, he doesn’t know what to say to me: I just lost Sara, and it is today that I bid her farewell.

“Always friendly, Harper.”

“Always perceptive, Tristan.”

A flood of conflicting emotions pours into me. Laugh, cry, scream, kiss him, slap, hold myself against his chest, my lover in my arms... I don’t know what to do. Nor what to think. He still has that tanned skin, the bright blue eyes, but his build is even more impressive, his voice more serious, his confidence disarming.

“I came for Sara.”

“I never thought otherwise.”

I’m too distracted, lost in my thoughts. When I think about it, I think that Sara would be happy to know that her funeral was the place of my reunion with... my first love. A tear digs a furrow on my cheek, I let it go:

“Goodbye, Tristan.”

I make it to my sedan parked at the exit of the cemetery. The bitumen burns my feet, I get in the vehicle and slam the door behind me.

What now? Sara, tell me...

Something? A solution? A cure?

One damn idea to get me out of this f*****g nightmare?