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The dirt is cold underneath Sasha as she sits, closing her eyes for a moment to focus on her breathing. It's unsteady and when she tunes out her other senses, she can feel her heartbeat and hear it more than anything else.
She turns around, cracking a half smile. "You guys can go, I'm- I'm good." Their footsteps fall away and her chest aches again, as it has been often.
They've been more than hospitable. They don't even know if she's really the real Sasha-well, Melanie does- but she could just be a thing convincing everyone she's really the OG, convincing even herself. It's terrifying. She could very easily imagine she's not real, she doesn't feel... solid, sometimes. She was integrated into the walls of that house, it feels as though she's... still in there. But she can't. It's reaching out to try and break the veil and finding you're too far removed. It's losing a limb she didn't know she needed.
Seeing his grave feels a little bit more like a real home. It'll never compare to being in his arms.
"Hey, Tim. It's been a while, right?"
She clears her throat, tears flooding her eyes quicker than she thought they would.
“You missed a lot, but I guess I missed even more. I've been... I've been gone for a while. The last thing I... I was in the tunnels. I heard a noise. After that... it's like I was stuck halfway between asleep.”
She takes another deep breath and reminds herself to keep doing that. To blink. To not lie down and never move again.
Placing her flowers at the base of his grave, she begins to talk.
“They say you don't remember me. Or, you remember my replacement, but even after you knew that wasn't me... you had to grieve me twice, is what Melanie said. I can't.” she clears her throat. "I've just been grieving you now. And Jon, and Martin, and some lady named Daisy that I've never even met. I came back and the world all looks the same, but I was told that it changed so much, and I guess I have to see that in the people here.
It's weird, you know? I mean, I miss you so much, you were here just a few weeks ago.
But to everyone else it's been years. Whenever I'm crying Melanie's there for me, you know, you guys were friends, but she's had years to get over it. She says she wasn't even really herself when you died, so I guess... I guess it's all different for her.
When we were alive, you know, all I wanted was to be with you. In some way I'm not sure what. I still... I think about it a lot, and I don't know if I was in love with you or if you were my best friend and I loved you like that. I keep wondering if it matters. I don't think it does, you know? But I can't stop thinking about it nonetheless.”
It's a long line of family graves, and it's stopped with Tim. Next is his brother, Danny.
There's a nice bouquet, but it had to have been there a while, because the petals have been leached of their color and plenty of its substance has peeled and crumbled away. There's a little propped up and framed photo, too, that's standing the test of time much better.
She wonders if her parents have a grave for her. If they visit it.
“You're my best friend, Tim.” The dam breaks on one of her eyes and the tears pooling up can't be contained and they fall in one solid line down her left cheek. “I'm so sorry that if you're- you're up in heaven and you don't... you don't remember me. You don't know who I am. I'm kind of afraid to ask Melanie if she ever told you the few things she remembered about me from meeting me... once? Twice? We didn't know each other up until now.”
Sasha shoves her hands into her pockets, shivering. It's cold, and it's not the best day to do this, but she can't wait any longer.
“I wanted to say goodbye. If I know how to. I know Ill go home and I'll still be grieving. This won't stop or fix anything. It's not even making me feel good, I kind of...
I feel like something's clawing at my ribcage, trying to get out, and it just might be my heart. There've been a few times I've wondered if there is that heaven, and if I can get there. If I could meet you up there. The christians say you couldn't, because you killed yourself, but it wasn't... it wasn't really suicide, not like we think of suicide anyway, and you were a good person. You were a good friend. I hope... I hope that when my time in this world ends, I'll meet you where we go next.”
She clears her throat as if to get attention, but she's by herself. Tim can't interrupt her like this, not down in the earth.
“You know those stupid aesthetic blogs from the early 2000s, and they always had all those quotes? Shit like I'd find you in every life or whatever? I always wanted to ask, partially as a joke, if you think we'll meet up again. Now I'm not really joking, and I wish I had a real answer.”
Wind blows through the barren trees, and she hopes. She squeezes her eyes shut and hopes for the same earthquake that brought her into this world to bring him back.
“Did you feel this alone when I died? Or when you found out I had been dead?” She barks out a laugh, bitterly. “I hope not. I wouldn't wish that on anybody.”
She closes her eyes gently this time, letting darkness wash over her as she tries to reach out for that veil. Like always, she falls just a little too short.
“You're not even really here, you know? It's like... symbolic. For your family's piece of mind. I know there were no remains, they've told me again and again, but I keep hoping there's something keeping you in this world. Would it be inappropriate to go to your family and ask them for... something? Do you think they kept it?” She pauses. “I'm sorry, that's kind of cruel to make you wonder.”
Her eyes open to the cold and she feels present in this world once again.
“I'm used to talking to myself, but it's weird. You're the subject, I guess, but you're not here with me. Your body isn't even her. Danny's is, as are your grandparents and their siblings and parents. But I don't feel any urge to talk to them. You were always more real to me than anyone else, anyway.”
Her knees hurt from pressing into the ground, so she turns around and sits with her back resting on his gravestone. She clenches her fists into her skirt and breathes. In and out.
“I wish we got a proper goodbye. I wish we were friends our whole lives and when we got old your liver started failing or I got cancer or both and we hold each other's hands and went wow, isn't this cruel? But we were there together for it. I wish I knew to hug goodbye or to kiss you or...” her chin starts to tremble and she takes a harsh breath, but it looks like nothing's going to stop the tears, and she lets them fall.
“I miss you. But I need to keep going. So I'll... one day I'll die a real natural death, but nothing violent like an explosion, and Ill find you, yeah?” She pats the dirt above his grave and smiles, shoulders shaking up and down. It's going to be terrible, but she's going to keep going.