Coming Home

Thirty

While I'd been practically wholly consumed by the recent changes in my life and their unexpected impact on me, I didn't fail to realize that Grandpa Jones's health was failing him at an alarming rate compared to previous days. With each new sunrise, his body grows weaker and weaker, and I've recognized that the light in his eyes has dimmed significantly. True to his typical cheery and caring personality, Grandpa hadn't allowed his diminishing strength to affect him emotionally-- well, not outwardly, anyway. Even when it took all the remaining energy contained in his fragile body, Grandpa kept his lips turned upward in an ever-present smile.

Although I'd watched his physical state deteriorate drastically and knew that his demise was inevitably coming much more quickly than anyone could hope, I don't think I was adequately prepared. Honestly, I don't think anything could have prepared me to wake up in the morning to Kelli's cracking voice announcing that my precious Grandpa Jones had passed away in his sleep. Her teary eyes and wobbling lower lip conveyed every feeling that suddenly rushed through me as she forced those words out past the prominently growing lump in her throat, and an emptiness suddenly took over my heart. Amplified by the still stinging and far too recent passing of my Gran, the black hole taking up residence in my chest is entirely unrelenting.

Out of concern for my emotional and mental well-being after everything that has transpired recently, Kelli took it upon herself to phone Levi and inform him of the news; he was quick to drop whatever he was doing and rush to my side. Now, I sit beside him in the coldness of a long Minnesota winter, huddled together on the swing in Gran's garden, staring into the whiteness as if it will somehow provide consolation or reprieve for the darkness that is taking over my soul. I don't think words will ever adequately express how much I appreciate even the simple things Levi's presence provides me. Curled into his side, I cry most of the day away before beginning the necessary calls to make arrangements for a funeral back in New York.

"Can I help you with anything, Lexi?" Levi asks, a hopeful tinge in his voice; it's as if he's almost desperate to offer some kind of assistance to me at this time. What he doesn't seem to understand as that his mere existence by my side is everything I could possibly ask for right now. "Do you want me to make the arrangements for you?" he prompts carefully, his hand gently stroking the length of my arm as I press myself further into his side in the chilly air. "I could make you something to eat if you want?"

Choking back a fresh wave of tears, I do my best to give an intelligible answer, hoping that my words can actually be distinguished over the sound of my currently consuming anguish. "You've already done so much for me, Levi," I reply, rubbing a palm over my dampened face before the wetness can freeze there. "Just being here, holding me while I cry... It means more to me than you know."

Levi's grip on me tightens protectively, and I can almost feel his desire to take away all my pain with the simple movement; it makes my heart ache, if I'm honest. "I did it because I care, Lex," he whispers into my wild hair. "Because I love you," he admits so quietly that it's almost inaudible.

As strange a time this may be to declare your love for someone, it doesn't stop my body from reacting to his confession. My heart flutters in my chest, my stomach doing a strange somersault, and another onslaught of tears makes its way down my likely never-to-be-dry-again cheeks. Levi Hutchins loves me.

"Levi..." I begin, not entirely sure of what I should say. Those three little words are stuck in my throat; I can feel them struggling to uproot themselves from the capture of my feelings, forcing their way out as if they're the only reasonable response to Levi's statement. My heart beats wildly, begging me to return the sentiment, knowing I'll wholeheartedly regret it for the rest of my life if I don't. Taking a deep breath, I continue with a shaky voice, "I love you, too."

Silence lingers between us for several moments as Levi and I bask in the beauty of our heartfelt proclamations, and everything somehow seems okay.

For a couple of minutes, anyway.

Word vomit forces its way out of my mouth as if its only intention is to ruin this perfect moment between us, and I feel my heart squeezing painfully. As if I really needed one more gut-wrenching and heartbreaking moment right now. Without my consent, my mouth delivers the final blow, my voice quivering as I say, "But I'm not sure we can make this work between us. I'm returning to New York for Grandpa's funeral... and I'm staying there indefinitely." When Levi remains quiet by my side and doesn't offer any response at all, I nervously add, "I don't belong here anymore, Levi. And I can't... I can't stay here."

My heart shatters as the words leave me, my own voice sounding foreign to my ears as a sob unexpectedly escapes me. I have no idea whether this is the right thing to do, but Grandpa deserves to be buried in the only home he's ever known. And there's something within me declaring that I must go, too. As much as it pains me to leave Levi after all this, I... well, perhaps I'm simply not in the right state of mind to be making such life-altering decisions.

However, it's too late to take the words back now, after they've already been said. After they've already pierced and deflated the heart of the wonderful and practically perfect man beside me.

What I wouldn't give to have all the answers right now, to magically know the right thing to do or say in a situation like this.

If only life came with a step-by-step instructional guide, that would be a lifesaver, wouldn't it?