With Love, Guinevere (part three)

1

Hope. The vein of hope is not something one could say that runs too close to the heart of my family. As a dreamer, I clung to that vessel of hope that no longer exists. At that point, it is merely a comfort blanket, ready to be taken against your will. 2

People at school began to disappear. They merely stopped coming and then two or three days later, you find out that they're either pregnant, arrested, or had simply dropped out of school. This happened to Tim. Nobody ever truly found out what happened to him. Rumors were far and wide. He dropped out, he moved, he was arrested for drug dealing. No one ever confirmed the truth so that now, nobody knows. His friend Dusty continued to look after me and we became good friends. 3

I lost my hope and my faith in God the day my brother called to tell me about a phone call he had received from my dad's mother. Our great-grandmother had passed away. This couldn't be happening, I thought to myself. Yet, not only could it happen, but it HAD. My dad's aunt flew him to Florida for the funeral. Automatically, I hated the whole lot of them  for sending him and not me with him. I was close to her,too and I had wanted desperately to say goodbye.4

I couldn't help but think, God - not another setback. The world itself was in full lack of hope. After the September Eleventh attacks, the world was torn. We, as the attacked were singed and heart broken, of course, as even a week after, we were still sifting through the aftermath of the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York City and the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. The world since then has been split into two groups, those who were celebrating the successful attacks on one of the world's strongest nations on Earth and those who wished to stop terrorism in its tracks. There were, of course, those who didn't want to interfere in warfare.5

Mrs. Day-Aleman told us at about quarter to ten about the attacks and told us that there was nothing for us kids to worry about. I thought that it had been some horrible joke. Who would attack the United States of America? People were taken home all through the day, but the situation became truly real when I got home and turned on the T.V. for my afternoon cartoons. There it was, on every channel except KERA (public broadcasting). I watched nearly a hundred times as a plane plunged into one tower and as the tape played, moments later, another plunged into the next. As you watched on, you are shown the strategic force of the impact as the towers crumbled one by one into a sea of people running for their lives, people jumping from the tops of the spoiled towers. It was mass destruction and you couldn't watch it without knowing that you're seeing the heavy spiral of death.6

Love was all I had to depend on back then and sometimes that wasn't enough to make me want to stay in life. I became defensive quickly, easy to anger, easy to drop into despair. Even the attempts Liam made to try to bring me up into the world failed for several days at least. In the end, however, his valiant efforts brought me out before I did true harm to myself.7

"Gwen?" Liam prompted after a few moments of my silence. I looked up at him through the mists of despair. I gave him my silent attention. "Talk to me, Guinevere, you're scaring me." How many times had I heard that phrase from those sweet lips?8

I looked away from him. "I scare myself," I whispered. He slid his warm hand into mine. He touched my cheek tenderly as I blindly moved closer into his warmth. He touched my hand to his lips as he drew me into his arms, helping me share my grief. His warmth surrounded me in comfort and I could feel my heart begin to relax. Had he known he had that subtle power over me, there was no telling what he would do. I never took the time to let him know. 9

I had let despair surround me more than I should have; let it have more power over me that nothing should have. I had so much survivor's guilt over my great-grandmother's death that it was unreal. I kept telling myself that I should have had more patience when she attempted to teach me how to play the piano. I should have asked her for more cake-baking lessons. I should have asked her for more sewing lessons. I should have helped her more... respected her more... loved her more. The regrets became more frequent and persistent.10

"Gwen," he whispered into my ear. "Why won't you let me ease this pain, love?" I smiled softly, the name imbuing feeling into my numbed heart.11

I looked up into his worried brown eyes. "There's nothing anyone can do." As I searched his eyes carefully, I added, "And since when do you call me 'love'?"12

He shifted uneasily and I got the feeling that it had just slipped out by accident. Yet, I knew he couldn't look me in the eye and tell me that he didn't care fore me. "It's okay, Liam, really. You don't have to explain anything." He took my chin in his hands and kissed my lips softly. My heart rushed at the sudden contact and as he kissed me, I felt the despair that had stolen at my heart slide away.13

He broke the kiss and pulled his warmth away from me. I felt cold and bereft. I knew he was mixed up inside. He hated getting close to anybody because he was still young at heart and he loved his independence, but I know how much he cared for me. He had always held me close to his heart and I was grateful for that. 14

*~It was his heart that kept my despair at bay.~*15

With Love,16

Guinevere.17