Graveside

Standing at the graveside of the one girl who had truly mattered to me. Feeling as though part of my own soul had been ripped apart. I had the spade; the earth heavy and cold as it fell about the coffin claiming her for its own. The first spade torturing my mind as I allowed her to surrender to the ground. The grave was quiet Solemn. Dead, the air cold and thin. I hug my head... silent tears sporting my face as I held her now in my mind the way I used to hold her in my arms.
In my minds eye I still saw Anthea the way that she had once been; so full of life, so carefree. Then the cancer ripped that away almost overnight. She fought on and on, weaker and weaker all the time. After months she simply gave up the fight, her body wasted upon the bed. I had been with her to the very end, not wanting anything but for her to recover. Even with her last breath she held me in the hope of recovery. I came to the point where I believed that there was no way for me to help her, then the next day she would seem stronger and I hoped for her, only for that hope to be wrenched from me when she hit yet more hours of bitter sweet despair.
I remember crying myself to sleep the night that she died. I remember feeling that my own life was ended, that she had been the reason for living.
I don’t have anything left of Anthea, only a single picture on my computer. It’s from before the cancer struck; she is lying on this carpet looking slightly away from the camera, a slight smile on her face. Her hair fell loosely from her head, shielding her body from view and adding softness to the image. Her legs were wrapped underneath her and one of her arms was pointing to something slightly out of view. There is a look of ecstatic pleasure on her face, a kind of romantic peace that belonged only to her... the message from her heart displayed for the world to view if for only a moment. I had often seen when she would play the piano or when she was painting. A rare magic of sorts unique to just her .I remember the day that I took that picture. We had been planning that day for so long that it was almost like a party when it finally came.
I had just ducked out of the train to London. She had run the length of the station and almost flung herself on me. She held me tight, like she was slowly drowning and I was the only lifeline that she had. I had been so shocked at the time; I hadn’t noticed her till that moment slowly I returned the hug, and the jigsaw was made whole for the first time ever. We walked quickly out from the station and within a few minutes were outside her house. Her mother was out as they had agreed. She wanted me to herself for as long as possible.
She had opened the door and walked in. Within moments we were sipping away at the bitter tea that she adored so much. I personally couldn’t stand it but to please her drunk it anyway. Minutes passed away, she had barely spoken a word to me. Then all the words spilled out as she finished her tea. The next few hours had been consumed with just telling our stories of the months between our last days together. It was another reminder to the relationship that had kept us both sane for many years. Then when it came to the telling her of my own life and for the first time in my life I was nervous around her. It was not something that was totally unexpected; I had known for a long time that I had not been eating the way that I should have been. I had started skipping meals and lying to my parents about when I had last eaten. The weight had wasted off my frame. A change that my parents had noticed yet failed to do anything about. She noticed straight away, we talked through it. We spoke for what must have been hours, and still her parents didn’t come home. It felt amazing to be alone with her for so long. She mentioned something about the house being empty till the next day, her mother wanted me to stay the night and look after her. Something that I had been totally unprepared for, not that I minded it would mean more time to talk and discuss anything that came to mind.
Anthea had learnt how to cook, and so she made a simple meal, spaghetti and some other bits and pieces. She had poured some wine and we sipped occasionally from the glasses that she had poured. There was something about the taste that I couldn’t stomach, so I had no desire to drink it. Eventually we had finished the quick meal, my first in two days. I helped her to clean it up and sort out the little things that she had left lying around.
We laughed and smiled. When darkness fell we stood out on her balcony, my arms around her as we watched the sunset. She was leaning against me, safe in my embrace. My head was on her shoulder, looking out onto the courtyard and the area around us. Pigeons went flying into the nooks and crannies that they had claimed as theirs, back to their nests and the young that would no doubt be waiting there for them. It was nature gearing down for the day, slowly waiting until it would greet the new day once more. We stood there for a snippet of eternity, just enjoying the feeling of being so close together and not being teased by my little brother about it.
She turned around to me, whispered that she was cold. I smiled, opened the door and let her go back in, as I followed. The moon had come out and it had become cold, despite it having been so warm that day. I borrowed a towel from her, and took a quick shower, one that I had needed for a long time. As my hands roamed over my body, scrubbing away the dirt, grime and sweat of the day I began to think of that day, despite it not being finished yet. When I came out she had already moved on to her keyboard and had started playing a tune to a poem that she had written.
“When you thought I wasn't looking
I saw you pin up my first painting- butterflies
Onto the cupboard door
And I always meant to make you proud. 1

When you thought I wasn't looking
I saw you give money to the poor
And thought it was good
To be kind to everyone. 2

When you thought I wasn't looking
I saw you making my favourite cake, instead of yours
And knew that the small things in life
Mattered the most 3

When you thought I wasn't looking
I saw you kneel in prayer
And confirmed there was a God
I could always talk to. 4

When you thought I wasn't looking
I felt your gentle kiss on my cheek- goodnight.
And I knew deep down
I would always be loved 5

When you thought I wasn't looking
I saw silent tears roll down your face
And learned that sometimes life is hard
But it’s alright to cry 6

When you thought I wasn't looking
I saw you cared
And wanted to be everything
You could ever wish for me 7

When you thought I wasn't looking
I saw things, and longed to say thank you
For everything I had seen
When you thought I wasn't looking”
Her voice projected itself through the room, a haunting melody that made me shiver as much outwardly as it did in.
For a moment I didn’t know what to say, she was lost in her world .I coughed awkwardly, blushing at the same time.
“It’s great, when did you write it?” My voice had sounded strange to me, strangled by something.
“Two or three weeks ago, thought you might like it” She was just sitting there on the low seat, looking at me with her eyes entrancing me, pulling me deeper into their depths. I walked to her, put my arms round her once more and without thinking about it kissed her. At first it was the merest of touches, but then she opened her mouth and her tongue made the first maddening touch upon my lips. Her hands went around the back of my head and she held me closer. We must have been like that for minutes when she pulled away for a moment. Her eyes were gleaming with emotion and a tear fell onto her cheek.
“Was it really that bad?” I asked her, a slight smile already playing over my lips.
“Don’t be an idiot, you know I wanted that for so long, but you never seemed interested.” She smiled back at me, dashed the tears away from her eyes and kissed me once more.
We stayed like that for what seemed like a long time, my arms around her waist and her hands behind my head. It was not a purely sexual thing; I never did manage to figure out what the feeling was between us. We had been friends for so long that we never thought about what we had. It was just there, an ever present feature of our lives.
I looked up at the clock that hung above her bed, obscured by posters and other paintings that she had once drawn. It was late, time for her to sleep, and for me to watch over her as I had always done, it was something that had becoming a tradition between us, I never totally understood how it had started, and it was just something that we did. I pulled away from her for a moment, walking to my rucksack and opening it. Inside were my tools to write and carve with. I pulled out one of the rattier looking pads, opening it to a page and passed it to her. Inside was a poem that I had written once.8

Dangling on the edge of despair
High above the ground 9

Crawling and grabbing
I'm losing grip
Fingers aching
Beginning to slip 10

Looking Below
Eyeing the fall
Should I resist?
Should I stall? 11

But another day comes
I'm still holding on
Regaining the space
That I thought was long gone
She read it slowly, gently held each word and then sat still for a long time. Then she put it down and smiled at me. Stood up and then walked away to her room. I didn’t follow her, just sat there and then took my place on the sofa. Tucked one of the many cushions under my head and just lay there, thinking. Thoughts about the kisses and the intimacy that we had shared absorbed me completely. It was something that I had known was in the air, but never acted on it. I hadn’t wanted it to ruin the whole relationship as I had with other girls when I had pushed them too fast for their liking. I wanted to know that Anthea felt ready for whatever happened and that she was slightly leading, only then would I be happy.
It was a while till she came out of her room and came to sit next to me. We stayed like that for a long time, just enjoying the company of each others presence. Then she stood up once more and lay gently on top of me. I moved slightly, trying to make more room for her, aware of the fact that she was wearing just a simple nightgown, with seemingly nothing underneath. Eventually we managed to settle, her body melding to mine as she pulled the blanket over us and we lay there, closer than we had ever done before. She put her hand on my chest, massaging the “muscle” that she felt there. I could sense there was something that she wanted to tell me, but didn’t know how to go about asking her. And so we lay there until she fell asleep in my arms. I smiled, stroked her hair gently and then also fell asleep.
It must have been late morning when I woke up, Anthea still asleep on top of me. I smiled and did my best not too stir. Her hair had spread itself in the night, but the main thing that struck me was her unforced beauty. In the bright light that streamed through the windows she was beautiful, at least to me anyway. For a moment something stirred from deep within me, and unconsciously I moved. Even with such a slight movement from underneath her Anthea stirred and woke, Rubbing the sleep from her eyes with clumsy yet delicate movements. Then came her stretches, each one of her muscles tensing, then easing itself as she geared up for the day.
I smiled and rolled gently off the sofa, Anthea sighing gently as my familiar shape left her. I walked quickly over to the kitchen, made us both a cup of coffee, something that neither of us could live without. Then with the coffees in my hands I walked back to her. She looked up at me from where she was still lying and gratefully took the mug that I gave her. We sat there for a long time, again just enjoying the company that each of us gave the other even in the silence.
I looked over to her after a while and savoured the way that she was so at ease. She had always been a dancer, and it showed in her body and the way that she moved. She had a kind of grace too her, each move poised and delicate, like the rest of her body. For a moment intuition warned me of some danger, yet I shrugged it of with a shudder and drank deeply.
“What’s on your mind?” She had seen me move, something that must have been blindingly obvious to anyone else who may have chanced to have seen us.
“Probably nothing, a grey goose going over my grave” I muttered back, thinking ahead as to why just a single look had evoked such a feeling inside of me. We sat there for about fifteen minutes, then walked away to get dressed. When she came back she was in one of her shimmering dresses, a pale colour that went well on her body. I was dressed as I always was, in jeans and shirt from the previous day. It suited me well enough.
“Lets go into town, I want to buy you something, I feel guilty for not getting you anything for your birthday" I pulled out a jacket for her, and she took it gratefully. She smiled to me, and then as she found her keys she kissed me once more. Slow and lingering, as though she never wanted the moment to leave. I held her for a moment and then she backed away and we parted.
She opened the door and we left down the stairs that led to the street. I followed her slowly, savouring the moment before she found the surprises for her that I had already bought. I had too much cash on me, and she deserved a treat of some kind. And it was true I hadn’t got her anything for her birthday. So we walked along the street together, watching the people go by and talking to each other.
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