Millie

Chapter Twenty One- For Mary

It's important to take note of those you reach for, in the aftermath of loss, in times of grief, and indeed in the highs of life, the joys, and the happiness too. The moments in your life that truly change it, for better or for worse. Those you reach for, and those who in turn reach back for you, they mean something. It,means, something.

Take note.

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Millie & Wren

I woke up late, stirring a little before I opened my eyes. I didn't have to open them though, to know where I was. Millie's scent was all over me, and her warmth was pressed into my back.

When I did open my eyes moments later, they felt sore from all of the tears, and my body hurt from all of the crying. I lie there for a good ten minutes before I feel Millie stir behind me, her grip of my waist tightening and a kiss being placed behind my shoulder.

It had been so long since I woke in her arms, and despite being with others, I never stayed the night. Not once had I ever let a stranger have me, not like the way I gave myself to Millie. In fact with every sexual encounter that I had used to bury my pain those first months, I hadn't let another inside of me. The sex was all one way, me doing the fucking, topping every girl that took me home and releasing that built up energy upon them before leaving. The only person I had been with, who tried desperately to fuck me in the same way, and hadn't allowed me to leave so easily, was Ava. She hadn't let up, and her desire to have me back, even if it was just my body... it was almost primitive. She had got me where she had wanted me, and she wasn't letting me go so easily. Ava, I'm ashamed to say, was the only person who had taken what was Millie's. Her success in that brief encounter, it was now my burden to bear. I still felt guilty about it, and despite Millie not wanting to know details, I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that wouldn't leave me... I think I had to tell her. Will it ever be a fresh start if I don't?! I will always know it, and feel guilty for it, and that will eat away at all of the good we have. I didn't want anything tainting this relationship. Millie was my future, and I didn't want any of the past clinging on to us and dragging us back like boulders roped around my neck.

Mary had taught me something of love, in her tales of its existence in her life, and the movies she forced us all to watch at various points in our own journeys. It wasn't lost on me, in spring break, when I walked in on her sharing a film with Olympia about two friends, friends who liked each other but never spoke of it. Typical Mary, thinking she was being subtle about it.

With thoughts of Mary come an ache inside, a grief, to know we won't see her again. I am twenty years old, and I will now live a whole life without her. We hadn't lost many in our family. We had been blessed with mostly good health, and my great grandparents had lived to good ages on the most part. Helena was the only one I never got to meet. I wished I had. Having her name made me feel closer to her, and like my grandmother Alberta always reminded me "you have her eyes, Wren. She's never far"

Great Grandpa Joseph had been the last loss we had to face. His grand old age and full life was a comfort. We had spent a week down in Utah, in the Anderson family home. All of the Anderson's and their family's came and went, sharing about his life and his achievements. With the faith of the family being rooted in the LDS church, it was of course believed he would be with them again, in their eternal family, beyond this life.

I wasn't brought up with religion per-say, not day to day in the home, but my Mama did still believe in parts of her faith, and she still believed we would be part of the eternal family, despite her and Moms sexuality being against what she was taught. Moms family were Greek Orthodox, and so of course some of that played parts in our childhood. Easter was something else, we would usually spend that week back with the family, eating, taking part in the Epitafios procession with my grandmothers church. During the week we would dye eggs red, make Tsoureki bread, and then on holy Saturday we were allowed to stay up late to attend the Anastasi, lighting candles, which signified the resurrection of Christ. The whole congregation and community would hold their candles and kiss one another's cheeks with "Christos Anesti" being said among them (Jesus has risen). It wasn't like our parents forced the religion side of it on us, but it was a part of my Moms upbringing and my Mamas too, and if anything, they were family traditions that were deeply loved by them. I appreciated all of those moments now, because it brought us closer to our family culture, and you didn't have to be a religious nut to appreciate faith. Sometimes, when you stripped it back, it was a peaceful thing, and a community that if done right, made everyone feel loved and a part of something greater. I could appreciate that. Hate should play no part in it. I didn't however, appreciate the way religion was used to push agendas, and hate minorities, and I sincerely detested the way my first love was stolen from me because of it. I wouldn't change it now, Ava and I ending, because we, I see on reflection, are not meant to be, but at the time... religion destroyed the purest thing I had ever felt. Love.