Over and Over, I Fall For You [Morgana]

Fledger Rells

As the weeks pass by, I manage not to have any more meltdowns. If River suspects something, she doesn't say. I converse with her at meals and kiss her goodbye, and we sleep in the same bed. But there's no romance in my actions anymore. When we talk, it's more just polite conversation than anything either of us care about. I take more fishing jobs that will keep me away for days at a time, instead of just from sunup to sundown. When I'm done with work, I don't come home right away, like I used to. Instead, I go somewhere with the rest of the guys, usually a pub. I don't drink anything, at least not at first. I just talk and laugh with the guys. But after a couple weeks of this, I take my first sip of beer. And then another. And another. But I stop before I get drunk. Acting normal, that's the point. And it's definitely not normal for me to come home drunk.

Something's off with River, and I don't mean our relationship. She's acting different. She gets out of the bed early in the morning, waking me up in the process. I act like I'm still asleep, waiting for her to come back, but she usually doesn't. What's she doing so early in the morning? Sneaking out and meeting someone else? Cheating on me? If she is, I don't really care. Should I? If she's found someone else, someone better than me, she should just hurry up and tell me. She's better off with someone else.

This morning, she gets up early again, fast, rushing out the door. Always the rushing. As if she's afraid I'll catch her if she doesn't get out fast enough. Maybe I should just let her know I'm awake, just once. "River," I say quietly, sitting up in bed. But she's already out the door. I lay back in bed, waiting for her to come back, almost hoping she will. Getting mad at the tears that form in my eyes. I don' t brush them away, just let them sit there, burning. I want things to be like they were before. I want River to come back, lay her head on my chest, and make me believe everything will be okay. I want to be in love with her again, because things were easier that way.

I lay in bed until I hear the front door open, then close, signaling River's departure. Then I kick back the blankets and brush stale tears from my eyes. After I get dressed, I make the bed, then head to the kitchen for breakfast. I dump oatmeal into a bowl, then pour in hot water, stirring the two items together. I put the bowl on the table and sit down in front of it, waiting for it to cool. I stare out the window while I wait. There's a steady drip as snow melts off the roof. The snow is all but gone now, only patches of the white stuff remaining here and there. Green grass stands straight in the yard, competing with weeds for sunlight. Spring is supposed to signal a time when things change. That much is true is my own life. So much has changed since winter first began. There's much more that is bound to change by the time summer comes.

River comes home a few minutes after I start on my breakfast. She says hello, then heads to the bathroom. She doesn't say where she's been, and I don't ask. I'm not sure if she'd tell the truth if I did. I go back to my oatmeal, waiting for her to come out so I can fix her a bowl, too, like I always do. It seems like she's taking a while. A glance at the clock tells me she's been in the bathroom for four minutes. Oh, well. Girls always seem to take longer in the bathroom.

There's only a few spoonfuls remaining of my breakfast when River finally emerges. She throws something onto the table. I look at her, not whatever it is she threw. Her face betrays no emotion and gives no hint to what's going on. ”We’ve got ourselves a big damned problem, Fledger.” Her words make me look down. At the table. At the plastic. At the little blue line. What the hell?

I'm hoping this isn't what I think it is. Because that's not possible, right? It was only one time, and it never happens on the first time, right? This can't be a pregnancy test, because River isn't pregnant. And that little blue line, what does that even mean? Negative? Not pregnant? But that wouldn't make sense, because then we wouldn't have a problem. I look up at River with wide eyes, hoping she'll tell me this is all a joke. She can't be pregnant. Because that means she's having a baby, and it means I'm the father.

"Fuck." I stand up fast, knocking against the table. My bowl of oatmeal tips over an splatters on the table, but I don't move to clean it up. I'm tired of trying to clean up every damn mess that comes my way. I want someone else to take core of this one. But I know that's impossible. There are plenty of other messes I could have shoved at someone else, but this is all mine. I'm going to be a father, whether I like it or not. I'm going to have to marry River, because that's the right thing to do. I'm going to be stuck with someone I don't love for the rest of my life. I can only blame myself for this.

I'm going to have to stand next to River for the rest of our lives. But right now, I don't want to. I don't to want to be near her. I don't want to have to take her in my arms and tell her I'll always be here, and that everything will be okay. Right now, I want to be a fucking normal teenager that can run away when he's scared. So I do.

I let the door bang behind me. I don't look back. I just run. Even when my lungs are burning and my legs ache, I don't stop running. As soon as I stop, the problem becomes real again. As long as I keep running, I'll be okay. Maybe, if I run fast and far enough, I can run right back into the past, back to when I was little and Father was still alive. Back to when my biggest problem was where I'd sit in the lunchroom.

When I finally collapse, it's at the door to one of my co-workers. his name is Dell, and he's about forty years old. He knew my Father, once upon a time. Since his death. Dell is the closest thing I've had to a father. Whenever I have a problem I can't solve on my own, I go to him. And this is definitely I problem I need a little help with.

I bang on his door. He looks surprised when he sees me there. I put a hand on the door frame and grip it hard. It's the only thing keeping me from collapsing. "I need help," I say. he lets me in, no questions asked. My hands are shaking as I tell him the story.

"You'll have to marry her," he tells me when I've finished. I nod my head. "I know. But I can't go back, not just yet. I have to figure some things out first." He leads me upstairs to an attic with nothing in it but an array of boxes and a bed. "Stay as long as you need." I think I'll have to take him up on that offer. I know marrying River is the right and responsible thing to do, but I can't, not just yet. I can't go back. I need to screw my head back on first. And I need to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to act now.

Fledger Rells

Quick kid quips, so harsh and cynical
Touches stricken, cold and clinical
What a transformation to behold
But I don't like this new, I want the old

I rub my eyes as I wake up to the sounds of breakfast being made beneath my feet. I have to go back today. It's time to make my choice, and make it clear. I'm staying with River, because that's what I have to do. I'll marry her because that's what right. Maybe it's not what I want, but it's still what I'll do. Up to now, I've been the perfect boyfriend for River. Our relationship has been a dream. I'm just going to slide right back into that position and hope things haven't changed too much.

I slip out from between the blankets. River is going to hate me when I come back. She won't understand why I left, and I can hardly tell her. She'll flip out if I tell her I don't love her anymore. She'd probably kick me out of my own house. My feet land on the cold floor. Dell calls to me from downstairs, telling me to get up, breakfast is ready. I grab my shirt from off the floor and pull it over my head. Take a deep breath. Everything's going to be fine. Even though this is the perfect opportunity to tell River I don't love her, I won't. That's too cruel, and besides, I've made up my mind.

Breakfast is short, and before I know it, I'm on my way home. Before I left, Dell gave me something, and it sits now in my hand, feeling heavier than it really is. It's my father's, and an object I've never seen before, not even when he was alive. The metal moves in my hand as I make my slow way back to River. It's a small anchor attached to a leather cord. The brass is heavy in my hand. Dell told me my father gave it to him just before I was born. Dell was supposed to hold on to it for my father until I was eighteen, then give it back to him. And since my father died before that happened, Dell decided to give it to me himself. Apparently, the brass charm has been passed down through my family for years. I'd thought I'd either sold or packed away everything that belonged to my father, but guess I was wrong.

The cold metal makes me think about things I haven't in a long time. Father was always looking out for me. He loved me, even when I didn't love him back. I thought he was bad father when I was little because he was always working, and never had time for me. Mother never worked, though I don't know why. Father was the only bringing in income, and I see now that he worked himself to the death-literally-for me. So I wouldn't starve, and so that I could grow up strong. That's what parents are supposed to do. They do the best for their children, even if the child doesn't understand it. And I', going to be a father now.

River is having my baby. That baby has more than just my DNA. It's going to look like me a little bit, act like me. It's going to grow up in a little house with enough food to fill it's belly. And I will be the one working to support it, River, and River's father. River won't be able to work for a while after the baby is born, and perhaps she'll never go back to work, just as my mother did. I want to be strong like my father was. I want to be able to take care of my family. But I don't want to make the same mistakes he did. I want this child to know I love it. I already know I'll love it, no matter what. I want children, I have for a while. True, I didn't think I'd be getting any so soon, but life never goes as expected.

I'm going to be a father. I like the sound of it. River will be a good mother, I think. I'm suddenly assaulted by images of River and I raising a beautiful little girl together. Laughing. Being happy. In love again. I want to love her. Not just for the baby, or for her, but for myself, too. I want to feel the same thrill I used to when I kissed her. Life sucks. So why can't River be the one good thing in it again? I don't see why I can't fall in love her again. We'll have plenty of time to get to know each other in the future.

There's only one slight problem: What if River doesn't want me back? The thought makes me feel like I'm drowning. This is what I want. I want a family again. And if River won't take me back...No. I won't do this again. I won't let there be only one option with no back-up plan. If River doesn't want me back, I will pick up the pieces of myself and move on. That's just what you're supposed to do.

It's not the words that make it final
You've said such things such things before to rival them
But it's how you say 'em now that's changed
Cold but sympathetic all the same.

Finally, I reach home. I slip the anchor into my pocket, taking a deep breath before I open the door. The knob is cold as I turn it and push the door inward. Take a deep breath. There's no going back now. I'll ask her to marry me, and then we'll be happy again. But when my eyes meet hers, I forget all my plans.

She's sitting on the couch, looking up at me, obviously surprised by my sudden appearance. There is shock on her face first. it is quickly replaced by anger. Run. No. No more running. She's mad, but that doesn't matter. I'm going to say what I came here to say. I won't be a coward and run again. It's time to face up to my mistakes and my problems. It's something I've never been good at, but here I am, doing it again. I take another deep breath before I speak.

"River." The words stick in my throat. I can't bring myself to get down one knee. Proposing to her isn't the right thing to do, I see that now. It'll put River in a position she shouldn't have to be in. If she says no, there will forever be a tension between us. It could completely sever these thin strings that hold us to each other. I can't ask her. Am I a coward for that, too? Or does it make me a good person? These are questions I can't answer on my own. There's no room in my brain to figure out such a trivial thing. There are only words, banging against each other, begging to be used. My head is overflowing with them, and piecing together a coherent sentence is a struggle. But somehow, I find words.

"Do you want me to stay, River?" My words come out sounding tired, and almost bored, not at all the way I intended them to be. "I only left because there were some things I had to figure out. I thought I had everything sorted out, but now...I'm not so sure anymore." I look down at the floor. I can't bear to look at her face anymore. I don't want her to be angry anymore. I want her forgiveness, but I know that's something that's not likely to come easily.

"I'll leave if that's what you want," I say. It's all that's left to say. I have no right to be here after running like I did. If she doesn't want me anymore, I won't blame her.

Lie to convince me that I'll be better off
Oh, you go on and I'll be happier, I'll be happier
You go on, yeah, you go on
You'll be gone and I'll be happier.

Fledger Rells

I don't want to be the one to say goodbye
But I will, I will, I will
I don't want to sit on the pavement while you fly
But I will, I will, oh yes I will.

This isn't what I wanted. This was never what I wanted. River was supposed to stay. And while she does have a point about it being my house, it's a bad one. She deserves this house. She's having a baby. She can't live in that little shack, for more reasons than one. It's too small for a baby, and unsafe. And infant could get hurt innumerable ways. And besides, she doesn't own the place anymore. We sold it. It was on the market a surprisingly short period of two weeks before a newlywed couple snapped up what they called "a quaint little fixer-upper." As she packs up her things, I want to grab her, tell her stop. Tell it's me who'll be leaving. But I can't. I'm glued to one spot, my jaw hanging open like an idiot. The shock has paralyzed me. Even though I prepared myself for this, for our ending, it still sends ripples of disbelief through my chest. It wasn't supposed to happen this way at all. She isn't the one that should be leaving. Neither of us should. We should both just stay here and at least pretend to be happy, for the sake of this child.

But River isn't a pretender, not like me. Oh, she may pretend sometimes, but for her it's only temporary. Pretending for me is a way of life. It's how I protect myself from getting hurt. It's how I can appear so strong when I'm crumbling inside. This time, I think, the pretending didn't save me. It only hurt me more. Even if I don't love River, I still love being with her. The idea of waking up without her on the other side of the bed is strange to me. It isn't something I ever imagined happening. But here, now, because of my own stupid mistakes, it is.

Maybe in the future, you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back around
Maybe in the future, you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back
The only way to really know is to really let it go
Maybe you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back to me.

I don't have time to say goodbye before she's gone. The door slams, a ricochet sound that splinters my heart. Come back. I stare at the door, willing her to appear. Waiting for her to throw it open wide and run into my arms, telling me it was all a mistake. And I would hold her and forgive her, because there would be nothing else I could do. River is as much a part of me as my right arm. I need her. But it's too bad I didn't realize that before now. I could have stopped her from leaving. I could have been a better boyfriend. There's so many things I could have done to make sure this didn't happen. Why didn't I hold her tighter? Why did I let myself believe I could let her go?

I don't want to be the first to let it go
But I know, I know, I know
If you have the last hands that I want to hold
Then I know I've got to let them go.

My knees give out beneath me, and I sink to the floor, inevitable tears welling in my eyes. If I wasn't alone, I'd force the tears back and refuse to let them fall. But I'm as alone here as I'll ever be. I could pretend to be strong. I could pretend River's leaving hasn't hurt me more than I could ever believe. But I'm tired of lying to myself. I don't want to pretend anymore. So I let the tears fall.

~~~

Empty. The house, my heart, the fridge. Everything is empty. I don't have the will to go out and buy food, and all that's left in the cupboards has long ago expired. It doesn't matter anyways. Eating alone hurts more than an empty stomach. I want Mother back home, but I know that would be selfish of me. She's better where she is. I know the reason I want her back is not so I'll have company, but so that I'll have someone to live for again. I'm not worth living for. I'm a horrid, wretched person, and I don't deserve to live. I drove my pregnant girlfriend out of my home. I ruined the first good thing I've had in my life in a long time. The only reason I haven't killed myself yet is because I'm holding on to the impossible hope that River will come to me. Impossible, because I know she'd never want me back.

I haven't been to the docks once in the two weeks since River left. If I've lost my job, I wouldn't be surprised. Dell came by last week to see if I was okay. He took one look at me laying on the living room floor, wrapped in River's favorite quilt, shook his head, and left. He came back the next day to give me a package of food his wife made and to deliver a slap to my face. I assume it was meant to wake me up and open my eyes. To make me see that even though River is gone, I have to keep moving forward. It didn't work.

Maybe in the future, you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back around
Maybe in the future, you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back
The only way to really know is to really let it go
Maybe you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back.

Most of my time is spent laying on things. The living room floor, wrapped in blankets it's gotten too warm to need. River's double bed, which she left behind, a shirt she forgot to pack pressed to my face. On the bathroom floor sometimes, too, when I decide I'm in too much pain to walk into the next room to pee. Yes, I''m a wreck. And yes, River is probably far worse off than me. She's the pregnant one, after all. She probably isn't laying on the floor of wherever it is she's staying now, feeling sorry for herself and counting her regrets. But she's stronger than I am. She has a reason to get out of bed every morning, and I don't.

Maybe we were doomed from the start. That morning on the beach, when we decided we loved each other after just a few short hours can't have been enough. I never believed in love at first sight. When did that change? When did I decide it would be okay to fall in love with River? Maybe I didn't decide at all, and it was always out of my control. Maybe all of this was always out of my control. Maybe. But probably not.

I still feel you on the right side of the bed
And I still feel you in the blankets pulled over my head
But I'm gonna wash away, oh I'm gonna wash away everything til you come home to me.

My cheek is pressed against the rough wood of the living room floor. When I get up, I'll have a mark there, but I don't care. Right now, the solidity of the floor is comforting to me. It is unchanging and steady. A floor will never decide suddenly to become a wall. It will never leave me breathless and wondering if I'll ever be whole again. All this time alone doing nothing leaves a lot of thinking. Mostly, I think about the pain. The constant ache in my chest, and the sharp explosions that come whenever I get to remembering River too much. All this time I've said I don't love her. But if that's true, then how did she break me so wholly and completely? How could she have left and taken all my will to live, taken all the light and happiness in my world with her? If I didn't love her, I would be able to move on. The thought of leaving the house and moving on wouldn't feel like I'm trying to walk and discovering that I don't have legs anymore.

My heart has been ripped neatly into two pieces, and I can't seem to find the other half. I can't even leave the house in search of it, for fear that she'll come back when I'm gone, and she'll pass through without me even knowing. I am tethered to this place by the invisible chains River slipped around my neck on the day the door slammed behind her. I miss her more than I ever thought I could. I miss her more than I loved her.

There is one good thing that comes from all this thinking. It makes me realize that if nothing else, River was my best and only friend. Some people may have called the ones I worked with friends, but to me they were always just co-workers. Dell is the exception, but he's really more of a father figure than anything. River lit my world on fire. She made life worth it, finally, after so long. When I was with her, I felt like I was living life again, not just walking blindly, hoping to stumble on something worthwhile. Just thinking of the way she laughed brings a smile to my face. Oh, what I'd give to see that face one last time. What I'd give to have that face burned in my mind instead of the one she wore in her leaving.

Maybe in the future, you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back around
Maybe in the future, you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back
The only way to really know is to really let it go.

I roll onto my back and put a hand on my chest, just over my heart, as if that will stop this constant pain. I think back to all the things that have been going through my mind these past two weeks. I wonder if maybe I did love her, after all.

Maybe you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back to me
You're gonna come back to me
You're gonna come back to me

Fledger Rells

The sky looks pissed
The wind talks back
The bones are shifting in my skin
And you my love are gone.

I need to stop this. River is gone, whether I love her or not. She isn't coming back. I can't lie around the house starving myself waitig for her to change her mind. She would have wanted me to get on with my life.

I push myself up off the floor, holding myself in a sitting position as I look around the room. Sunlight slants through the window as the sun starts its descent in the sky. Evening is coming on fast. I pull myself to my feet. What happens now? Now that I've decided to live without her, I'm not quite sure how to live. The ache in my chest grows stronger, and I rub at it through my shirt. I know it won't help any, but I do it anyways. Stall for a moment as I try to remember what I did before River, what I can do now.

My room seems wrong
The bed won't fit
I cannot seem to operate
and you my love are gone.

My feet carry me to the bathroom, and I find myself staring at my reflection in the mirror. The face looking back at me as blank, hollow eyes. They don't match with the rest of my face, the strong jawline, a line of stubble racing across it, the straight nose. All of it looks so put-together, so fakely perfect, but my eyes betray the lie. I open a drawer and search for a razor. When I find one, I spend ten minutes shaving the stubble off my jaw. It doesn't look that bad, but it's nicer without it. When I'm finished, I inspect my face again, hoping to find something more real. I don't.

All I see is a lie. All that's there are the walls I so carefully built around myself, the walls River knocked down carelessly, effortlessly. I've tried to build them up again, but the sharp angles and charred pieces don't want to fit with anything again. I can't hide anymore. I've hurt myself too much and too many times by hiding who I am, and I won't do it anymore. If I am blank and hollow, if I am nothing without the walls, then so be it.

So glide away on soapy heels
And promise not to promise anymore
And if you come around again
Then I will take, then I will take
The chain from off the door.

I don't want to see myself anymore. Not now, not ever again. Not while I am hollow. When I find myself again, I will look in the mirror. But for now, it is better off smashed and broken.

I let my fist fly, hitting hard against the glass. Shards fly across the room, cutting into the skin of my hand. A piece grazes my arm, but it draws no more than a few droplets. I draw my right hand back to my body, inspecting the deep cuts. It's hard to tell just how bad it is, considering all the blood rushing down my fingers. I rinse the blood off in the sink and bind my hand with some banadages I find in a cabinet If there's glass stuck in my hand, I don't care. I won't go to a doctor, on the off chance that it would be River's cousin Coral whose office I stumble into.

After brushing the splinters of the mirror off the bathroom floor and deposting them in the garbage, I grab father's old jacket and head for the door. There's no use staying shut up in the house. I'm bound to find plenty of people down at the bar, so that's where I head. The sun has sunk considerably by the time I reach the bar, and night is rushing in to fill the empty spaces. I push the doors open, immediatley assaulted by the smell of sweat and cheap alcohol. Several people from my fishing boat exclaim as I walk in, slapping the seats beside them and begging me to sit. I look around until I find Dell, then sink into the empty seat beside him.

"It's good to see you out," he says in that gruff voice of his. For a moment, I am so happy to be here, among people I have known all my life, people that have never let me down, that I throw my head back and laugh out loud. The feeling of it is so amazing, so beautifully freeing that I don't want to stop. But the ache in my chest grows tighter at the realization that laughing with River would feel infinitely better.

I'll never say that I'll never love,
Oh, but I don't say a lot of things,
And you my love are gone

"I think I love her after all," I tell him. For some reason, Dell finds this hilarious, laughing for so long and so loudly that almost everyone in the building turns to stare. He wipes tears from his wrinkled eyes and takes a long drink of beer. Upon seeing my startled and confused expression, Dell nearly explodes with laughter once more. He manages to hold it in, though, instead imprting mewith some words of wisdom. "Well, of course you love her," he says. "No man realizes how much he loves a girl until she's gone." He turns his attention to his beer, leaving me to think about this. It makes sense. No one realizes what they had until it's gone. Even though I resloved to live without her, I know I don't want to. I'd take her back in heartbeat.

The rest of the night is spent laughing, telling stories, and drinking. I am careful not to get drunk, knowing River would not approve. She won't come back, but I'd still like to think I'm doing right by her. When I've had enough, I walk back home, letting the cool night air hit me. For the first time in a while, I feel alive.

~~~

As I open the front door, I hear the beep of the answering machine. Who would be calling at this time of night? I get few enough phone calls as it is, and one in the middle of the night like this is especially strange. And then I hear the voice. ”Hey, Fledger. Um… it’s me." River. I run to the phone, slamming my hands against the wall on either side of it. I listen to the sound of her voice, snaking across brain and settling warm in my mind. If I could stay in this moment, listening to her voice, forever. It almost doesn't matter what she says. Something about Coral, and the baby..."I miss you." My heart thumps in my chest. She misses me. It's only then that I realize what an idiot I've been. When the woman you love calls you in the wee hours of the morning, you pick up the damn phone, not sit there listening to her voice!

I grab the phone and hit the redial button. My stomach flip-flops as I listen to the phone ring. And ring. And ring.

"Hello?"

I press my head against the wall, savoring the sound of those two syllables. "River," I breathe, my words soft but somehow loud in the hush of the night. This is it. This the moment that decides whether or not she comes back or stays away. Hell, what I say might not change a thing anyways. But I want to say the right thing. I want to say what I mean, not what she wants to hear. I want River to love who I am, not the walls I put up. I want a chance to love her again, and do it right. I realize it's been too long since I've spoken her name, and if I don't say something soon, she'll likely hang up on me. I rack my brain for something beautiful, something to sweep her off her feet. What I come up with is sincere, and I think that's probably why I think it's the best.

"I miss you too."

And if you come around again
Then I will break the chain from off the door.

Fledger Rells

For some reason, I decide it's time to drag my butt to work. I've been gone too long. I need money for food, and for other things. If I want to keep living, I have to go to work. So I do, for the next three days. Mostly it's just work at the docks, loading and unloading things from the ships and boats that come in. Whenever I life something heavy, the skin tugs at the edges of the cuts on my right hand. More than once, I have to stop to re-bandage the wound as it starts bleeding again. I know I shouldn't be working if it means I'm hurting myself. But I can't help it. I need money, and for different reasons than I did before Mother left.

If I want River back, I'm going to have to make sure I can support both her and this baby. She won't be able to work, so I'll have to support the family on my own for a while. Family. For years now, that's all I've ever wanted. A family of my own, to take care of and to love. A family to love me back.

As work ends on the day that River's supposed to be coming over, I hurry to get back home. I want to be there when she arrives. Of course, it's possible that she's come and gone already, but I don't let myself think about that. I have to see her, and make this right. I have to ask her not to leave. Somehow, I have to make her see how much I need her. Which is easier said than done.

As I pull the door open, I hear soft singing coming from somewhere at the other end of the house. It's River, no doubt about that. I would have liked to shower before she got here, considering the fact that I'm still sweaty from work and I probably smell. But I guess everything happens for a reason, even if I don't know what that reason is. Ready or not, here she is.

I look critically about the room, realizing what a mess it's turned into. If I hadn't been so busy acting miserable while she was gone, this place might actually look halfway decent. I sigh as I plunk a few dirty dishes into an already full sink. I pile a few blankets onto the couch, making a mental note to fold them later. I notice that the floor could use a good washing, too. But all of this will have to wait for another day. A day when River isn't here, and I'm not tired from work.

I can still hear singing as I walk slowly down the hall.

"A room is still a room,
Even when there's nothing there but gloom.
But a room is not a house, and a house is not a home
When the two of us are far apart,
And one of us has a broken heart."

The singing stops just as I reach the open door of the bedroom. River is sitting on the bed. She obviously hasn't noticed me yet. I lean a hand against the door frame as River leans over and pulls something from beneath the bed. It's a white dress, the one she wore on the day of the Reaping. I close my eyes, remembering the day. The fear as I walked to the District Square. Happiness, then fear again as I saw my mother laying on the floor. And then the time with River, in my bedroom...Was it really just a few months ago? It seems like years.

River shoves the dress back under the bed with a sigh. She doesn't want to remember that day, when everything was so perfect, but also when everything began to fall apart. I think back to before, when we first met at the beach. When we never believed that things could fall apart like they have. Back then, I said I would die for her. What's changed? When did I decide that I didn't need air to breathe, to live? I need something to live for. It was Mother before, and then River. But River left. I'm not the kind of person that can live without any reason. I need something to get me out of bed in the morning, and that something is River. So how am I expected to be happy without her?

Quietly, so I don't scare her, I say, "Hello River." I don't move away from my place by the door, afraid that if I do, all of this will go away. Afraid that this will end up being a dream. I don't want to wake up from it. I want to end the nightmare. But how do I make her stay? I don't want to hug her and kiss her and beg. That would probably leave me with a collection of bruises and River's hate. No, I have to say something. I have to say the right thing, even if I don't know what that is.

"Please don't leave again," I say. It's not what I meant to say, and I try to stop and take a different route. But the words come tumbling out now, and I can't stop them. "I love you River, and I'm sorry for not making that clear before. I need you, more than I ever thought I could need a person. But it's not just that. I want you, River. And I want to be with you forever." I can't believe what I'm about to do. It's something I've wanted to do before, but never did. Maybe I should have done it long before now, way back on that day at the beach. Or maybe I was always meant to do it now, to use this one thing to fix everything. Everything that there is to fix, anyway.

I un-knot the leather cord that has hung around my neck ever since that first day, the one with my father's wedding ring attached to it. I slip the ring off, holding it between my thumb and pointer finger. I get down on one knee and look River in the eye. "River Destin," I begin, swallowing hard before I continue. I pray that I am not making things worse as the words leave my lips. "Will you marry me?"