The Art of Letting Go (The Uni Files)

by Bloom, Anna

  “I had no idea what she was talking about,” he continues, “so I had to do a bit of research. At first I didn’t get it, but then I found one song that made me understand. So tonight for one night only, Sound Box are going to do some Taylor.”

  He grins as the crowd erupts.

  “This song is dedicated to that certain somebody: "‘Long Live.’”

  Oh, my god! He is going to sing Taylor fucking Swift!

  All because once I had shouted at him and told him that he was making me live my life by her songs. My knees give and I realise why Tristan has been standing with his arm around me.

  Ben starts to sing, and I begin to slowly come apart at the seams. There is nothing in this world that can keep me together now. Nothing.

  When he gets to the last verse, the sad one: the one where you know that whatever it is Taylor is singing about did not have a happy ending, it feels like my heart in actually going to stop beating. I can feel it thud slowly in my chest.

  On the last line, his voice breaks on the word “You,” and we both just stand there pointing at each other.

  The moment he finishes, he jumps off the stage, much to amusement of the audience, most of whom have already seen him jump off a stage once before to chase after me. He comes through the crowd and grabs me.

  We both stand there hugging and crying and finally he pulls away and says for the very last time ever,

  “Let’s go home.”

  23rd June

  This morning I gave him a kiss on the cheek and left his room. I have locked myself in my room and sat in shock for the entire day, I am wearing the T-shirt I have stolen, which still smells of his laundry powder and smoke. Still smells of Ben.

  I wish I could write that after we got home last night and had made love the way only two people as desperate as we felt could, I had told him how much I loved him and begged him to stay.

  Except, I didn’t.

  This is real life, my real life, and unfortunately you cannot put a happy ending in where it is not meant to be.

  Eventually I have learnt the art of letting go.

  11:23 a.m.

  Text from Meredith.

  Meredith: Are you okay?

  Me: No.

  Meredith: Can I come in?

  I get up and unlock my door. Then sit back down staring at the wall again. I dare not look anywhere else. Everything in here is in some way layered in memories that at the moment I can’t face.

  2.00 p.m.

  Meredith comes in and sits next to me. After an age, I put my head in her lap. She smoothes my hair, like I, only a few short months ago, did for her.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she whispers.

  “No it’s not,” I reply, “I can’t breathe.”

  Taylor Swift is singing "Last Kiss," and I think she may be right.

  24th June

  8.00 a.m.

  It is the last exam, for which I have done no preparation at all. I am going to leg it out of the dorm when it is time to go. I have not seen Ben. It is a good thing, because I could not say another goodbye. I spent the whole of yesterday evening fighting the urge to knock on his door and be with him one last time. I also sat there desperately wishing that he would knock on my door, but he didn’t. I wonder if he is struggling to breathe like I am?

  When I get back from the exam he will probably be gone, and then so will I.

  The Exam of Truth

  Meredith and I stand in the queue for the exam room. I have my head on the wall and am about to turn and ask Meredith what the hell the exam is about when I notice Barbie is standing next to me. She is looking at me a bit strangely.

  “Where’s Ben?”

  Jeez, this girl has no shame.

  “He’s gone, you know, to America.” I can’t be bothered to be polite.

  “Why’d you let him go?”

  “Get lost.”

  She stares at me for the longest moment. “Listen, Lilah, I am sorry about that night, well, you know . . .”

  I don’t answer. It is not possible without punching her.

  But she can’t let it go. “That night, I was really pissed, and all he kept talking about was you. How excited he was that you were going to be officially his the next day and how in love he was with you, how he never thought he was going to find you, and how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.”

  I stare at her.

  “It made me get really mad. I was standing there practically throwing myself at him and all he could do was talk about you, like a lovesick puppy.”

  I am still staring.

  “So I stripped. It’s kind of embarrassing, but I stripped and tried to show him what he could have with me, but he just looked at me in disgust and told me to grow up. That is all I remember I must have passed out.”

  I continue to stare at her like a wild-eyed crazy person.

  What?

  I have always believed him when he said he had not done anything. I just thought that he must have been interested a little bit for it to get that far. Instead, she is telling me that all he was doing was talking about me; that he wanted to be with me forever. He was telling that to a complete stranger, a complete stranger who was standing there in her underwear trying to tempt him, but he could not be tempted because he was in love with me.

  Oh FUCK!

  I have learnt the art of letting go. But I have let go of the wrong thing.

  I have let go of Ben, the single best thing to ever happen to me, when, instead, I should have let go of all my issues and negativities. He never saw them, he only saw me for exactly what I am—crazy behaviour included— and loved me for it.

  Oh, fuck.

  Meredith looks at me her nose is wrinkled into an ‘I told you so’ expression.

  Then it hits me, like a sledgehammer—just what it is that I have forgotten to do—what that niggle at the back of my mind has been the whole time. I was supposed to just ask him to stay. It would have been so easy and so right. Two simple words.

  Please stay.

  I think I am processing this quickly but a couple of minutes have probably passed.

  Crap.

  I am just standing there with my mouth hanging open, and the intelligent thought of huh? running through my mind. I’m about to turn and tell Meredith that I’m going to go and try to catch him when Professor Johnson starts leading us into the hall where we have to walk to our desks in silence to sit the end of term paper. I want to bolt but Crazy Johnson catches my eye and watches me walk in, his ‘drop-out student’ radar must be on full alert.

  The Longest Two Hours . . . Ever

  This is the longest two hours of my life.

  Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.

  It feels like it is never going to end. I don’t even know what I am supposed to be writing about. I cannot even read the damn questions. They just swim in a blur in front of my eyes every time I try. Instead, I just sit and watch the clock tick by at the slowest pace ever. Can you freeze time? Because it sure feels like someone has.

  Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.

  My legs are jigging up and down like a jackhammer, desperate to be out of the room and chasing to find Ben. My heart is beating so fast and so loud I’m surprised the other students cannot hear.

  I glance at my ring, which winks blue at me like a flash of torture. As I watch the facets hit the light, I realise the complete stupidity of my actions.

  I am going to let history repeat itself.

  I am going to achieve the one thing that I wanted to stop. What a complete, bloody idiot.

  I am going to let him go. We will live our lives apart, and all for what? Ben’s Gran was kept from the love of her life by her family. The only thing keeping me from mine
is my own stupidity. Am I going to wait however many years to see the flash of blue again wherever I may find it? Will the ring move on to another owner who will also repeat the same cycle?

  Sod it, I may as well look at the questions while I am here and see what they are about.

  Hold on a minute! These are easy. This is the stuff that Ben and I were reading about in the library the other day. The other day when he sat in the library with me, determined that I was going to pass my exams.

  Ben. Ben. Ben. Ben.

  Then I start to write, like my life and sanity depend on it.

  Finally we are told that we can leave if we are ready and I jump out of my chair as if someone has set a fire under my arse. I dash out of the exam hall and sprint across campus as fast as my legs will take me.

  Taylor is singing "Change," and so am I as my legs pace faster and faster to the beat of the song in my head. This time I know she has got it right, the perfect song for me, because I know I can walk away and take the easy path or I can change myself and get all the things that I want and deserve. I choose change. Sing “Hallelujah”. Yes, I bloody am.

  Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. I just need to tell you that I have been a dick and that even though I know you need to go anyway, I want you to know that I love you and that I want you to stay, so at least you know, and one day you may come back.

  I fly up the stairs of the dorm, my legs screaming in agony as I take them two at a time. I fall through the door trying to push the memories of Ben and I crashing through it on many occasions together out of my mind.

  I barge through his door and come to a stop, staring in shock at his empty room. There is nothing left that would ever show that he had been there.

  He has done what I asked. He has left.

  I turn and enter through the door to my room, my heart already heavy and struggling to beat. Ben has been here. There are traces of him everywhere, but he is not here now.

  It’s too late. He’s gone. I let the love of my life leave.

  I just sit on my bed. I have no idea what to do.

  Then I notice an iPod box on my bed. There is a Post-it on top. ‘For You,’ it says, in Ben’s handwriting.

  I take the iPod out and look at the track listings. There is just one track, without a name. It just comes up as ‘Sound Box, untitled.’

  I jam the headphones into my ears and listen to Ben pick out the notes to "Hey There, Delilah," on his Gibson.

  His voice makes my legs go wobbly the way it always does, and I listen to him sing the words with a longing in his tone I have never heard before.

  I just sit and allow the tears to fall. I do not need to hide them from myself. I deserve them for being so completely blind. For never having faith in myself like I should have had. If someone can love you that much, then you should be able to love yourself as well, because you deserve it.

  If someone can see the best in you, then you should believe it is there too.

  If someone can accept your crazy behaviour, obsessive impulses, and can lovingly squeeze your squidgy bits and want you all the more for them, then you have to accept them, too. How can you not?

  This is a lesson I have learnt too late.

  Through my tears I can see another Post-it note folded up inside the box.

  On it, in Ben’s handwriting, is a destination and a question mark. I don’t know what it means. I don’t know what anything means. All I do know is that I am going to find out.

  Contact the author:

  Fancy a chat with Anna or want to find out more about The Uni Files?

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  Or by good old fashioned email: annabloomwrites@gmail.com

  A Uni Files Novella

  The Saving of Benjamin Chambers

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