But they don't. I have to find them myself.
I am tired. It's three a.m. when I look at my cat who joined me to bed a few hours ago. In an instant I feel jealous of his careless life. I turn around for the seventh time hoping to finally find my sleep. But I don't. I am frustrated, hurt and pretty damn scared. My gut tells me it's going to be tomorrow. Tybo and I will have separated by tomorrow. I don't know who will be brave enough to take the first step, but someone will. At three fifteen my exhausted body finally takes over and takes me away with a silent breath.
I watch trees flying by my car window. It is an hour and a half drive. My mom takes me to Berg for the last time. It will be the last time I'll see the house that once was filled with my childhood. The house where my grandparents lived and who have now both passed. I will see the house where our only true saint Nicolas visited, the street where we threw stones into the little canal. The village where all our biggest adventures formed us into who we are now. It will be a day of goodbyes. Big, hurtful goodbyes. I take photographs of the house that now is a little different because it is now the home of other people. I silently look at the cat that lies at the front door, as if he or she is protecting what is now hers.
I photograph the canal, the street name and the street. I take a little stone from their entrance, just to make sure I still got something from the house. I take six others from across the street and I sit on the little bridge looking down at the moving water, just like I did when I was little.
My mother lets me be. She takes a little walk while she shares her memories of this place with me and when it's enough for her she waits in the car. I take my time and take it all in.
When I get back in the car she takes me to other streets that are filled with memories. Some I remember, others are new and comforting to listen to. We visit my mothers old friends but none of them are home. It's oke, we love it anyway. She takes me to the sun forest. It was her backyard when she was little. We parked the car right in front of it, hoping it wouldn't get picked up by the police and we took a walk, sharing more memories, making more photographs and collecting more little treasures. I loved it. And even with the heavy-heart-thoughts, I still felt happy, that moment.
I get home and only see now that I got a message from Tybo. I was driving so didn't noticed my phone. He would come to my place. He would come and we would talk.
He takes me into his arms and after I'm done cleaning something up I follow him into the garden. We take a seat and get surrounded my chickens. They somehow feel like a silent support.
We talk, we feel, we touch, we hug, we cry and we love. We feel the same and we care equally. We sacrifice our longing for each other just so the other could be happy.
I tell him I'll honor him by wearing the necklace that he made me, and he'll do the same with the little treasure stone bag that I gave him. He shows me how he wears it and I feel an overflow of thankfulness. I smile and love him even more, if that would be possible.
I ask him if it would be oke to send him a message in a few days, just to see how he is doing. He says it's oke and I feel a huge relieve. I will know how he's doing. I will have the confirmation that he is safe and maybe even taken care of by friends.
I tell him how I hope we will still be buddies thirty years from now. Like life long back ups for each other.
We give each other our last most loving kiss, we hug as tight as we can and we let go. I follow him to his car and I wave him out for our last time.
My head spins as I go back inside and I run to Wulles grave right away. I message my mom and she calls me. She and my dad will be home as soon as possible. I lay my hand on the grave, missing every single thing that I love so god damn much. I cry and I cry and loneliness floats over me and darkens the moss that makes the grave so beautiful. It hugs me in a toxic way.
I realize that I forgot what is feels like to feel lonely, to be alone. Freaking hell, I don't remember how to be alone. I realize how he has become a big part of me, that now is gone. I lost a piece of my being, my "me".
Time flies and drags by slowly at the same time. I feel mama's hands on my arms and I start crying again.
"Oh my girl..."
I tell her I don't want to go inside because Tybo brought food and drinks for the bonfire we were about to organize with friends this evening. She tells me my dad is hiding it, so I won't have to see it. I tell her how I feel guilty for forgetting to give him money for what he bought and she comforts me saying that will be the last thing he will be thinking of. We will set it straight. Just as I will give him the chocolate bar that I wanted to give him for months but still forgot.
She tells me that if things need to be arranged, it will come, but for now we have to take care of ourselves. We have to find ourselves again and from there on see how everything evolves. How life wants us to walk our path. Together or apart.
I send a message to our friends saying that the bonfire is off, that I feel too hurt. Lode and Amber are still coming. They join me at the grave and later help me start the fire. Lode went to the store last minute to get chocolate and milk for making hot chocolate and Amber made a fruitmix.
I can not bare food in my mouth but eat out of gratitude. I hug them and painfully realize that those hugs are not Tybo's. That my ear won't touch his chest, that his arms won't squish my shoulders anymore the way only his can. I think of the festival that we were supposed to go together to. I think of how I won't feel safe anymore when stupid boys come running up to me, pouring water on my camera and calling me names. Because he won't be by my side.
I have a peaceful evening with my friends and even though I sometimes unwillingly miss half of their stories, I'm still glad that they came. They got my back. They don't mind me bursting into tears every five minutes.
I link every single little thing to Tybo, and for the upcoming weeks or months or even years, that will be the way it is. I will have to fight and I will sometimes drown. But as long as he's oke, I will be too. And in one way or another, I will stick my head above the water again because of that.
I try not to think of him seeing anyone else. The thought that other fingers will trace the tattoo on his arm that I drew for him is killing me.
It's now 2:45 am, tuesday. I look at the note he wrote me that is hanging above my desk and look at my bed. No Tybo. Only demons. Dark, annoying creatures that are waiting to tease me with memories. And for the first time I will not be able to take my phone to write the same thing I write every evening.
"Sleep tight my love, I love you and I'll see you tomorrow. <3"
"Sleep tight my bunny, I love you too, very much."