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property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Our Day
By Jamie
I sit here and stare at the tiny calendar on my desk. October 14th.
She's 30 today. I wanted to send her a card, give her a present, but
I know I can't. There is no address to send it to, no one to receive
it in her place.
Last year, on this day, I woke up before the sound of the alarm. She
was sleeping next to me, half on her stomach, half on her side. Her
fingers entwined with mine. She didn't even notice when I got out of
our little circle. I spent an hour blowing up 20 something colourful
balloons, and hanging blue and white streamers on the walls. She
asked me why I was blushing when I got back into bed, not realising
what time it was.
About a half hour later, I heard her padding towards the bathroom,
making a sudden stop. I stood in the doorway, gazing at her. She
looked so beautiful, standing in a cloud of balloons. It was like she
had never even seen any before. I wish I had taken her picture,
because sometimes I forget what she looked like.
I don't have a clear memory of the rest of the day. I think we went
swimming. Yeah, swimming. In this indoor subtropical kind of place.
There were slides, and a hot tub. A light blue bikini. Her hair in a
messy ponytail. I hear her voice in my head, urging me to get in the
water. I see her hanging over a blue lilo in the gulf bath, smiling
at me. Sitting in the sauna, while she was humming along a really
stupid song on the radio. She couldn't sing if the world depended on
it, but I would give anything to hear her singing in my ear again.
In the evening, we went out for dinner. Tagliatelli in mushroom
sauce. Her favourite. I gave her my present, a book about all kinds
of stones and minerals, and a necklace with her birthstone. She
didn't take it off for weeks. We danced, laughed and partied at her
apartment until about 5 o'clock in the morning. I see her standing
there, her body moving to the rhythm. I hear her laugh. I feel her
hand in mine. I forgot how good it used to feel.
She fell asleep in my arms. I remember the sound of her breathing,
hear her mumbling something in her sleep. I didn't want to fall
asleep, because then the real world would come in. There were no
balloons, or lilo's or birthstones there. I mean, they didn't have
the same meaning. They only reminded us of the fact that maybe just
maybe, everyone deserves one day of happiness, no matter how
shattered things look.
The daydream ends, and I put down the calendar. I wonder what she's
doing. Is she celebrating, even though it's probably not considered
her birthday anymore? Is she crying, because there is no one to
remember what day it is? I like to think that maybe, she is looking
at the picture she took of me at the pool, and is daydreaming about
the exact same thing. There will be other October 14ths, next year,
and the year after that. But for me and her, it will never be an
ordinary day. It will be our day.
The End