23

I woke up this morning cradled in Asher’s arms.

He’d spent the whole night sitting.

He never let me go. Even when I woke up and tried to sneak away to wash my face and brush my teeth. The moment I moved, his arms became steel bands and locked me in place.

On the worst night of my life, Asher had me.

The morning after learning my best friend had been murdered, Asher had me.

It was strange how something horrible and tragic and devastatingly heartbreaking can open your eyes. Waking up surrounded by Asher, I finally understood. I didn’t see him across the room and fall in love with him. I felt him. I felt his comfort. I felt his protection. I felt him in a visceral way.

That might sound crazy but that was the truth.

“I need to get up,” I told him.

“In a minute.”

I knew he wanted to know how I was doing but I also knew he wouldn’t ask because who wants to ask someone who lost someone important to them how they were doing?

The obvious answer was, not well. The honest answer was, life fucking sucks right now.

“I’m angry,” I told him the truth. “I’m really angry I’ll never see her again. I’m mad I’ll never hear her voice again. I feel hateful and full of rage. I’m confused. I have so many questions, but I know I’m not ready for you to tell me what happened and where she was found. I’m not sure if I ever want to know and that’s not me being in denial. It’s me preserving her life. She is not how she died, and I don’t ever want to think of her like that. Elise was sweet and bitchy and sarcastic and funny, and she constantly ate the last of my ice cream and never replaced it. She was always there to listen to me. She was always up for a good time and loved to have fun. She loved life, she lived it to the fullest. That’s what I’m going to remember. Those are the things I will keep in my heart. One day when I’m not mad as all fuck at the world I’ll tell you about all her shitty attempts at making homemade pumpkin pie. I’ll tell you about the time she caught her car on fire. She was crazy, she did the craziest shit, and she breezed through life with the most beautiful smile. She didn’t believe in marriage, but she believed in love. She didn’t want a funeral. She didn’t want a memorial service. She didn’t want her ashes buried or scattered. She never told me why and I never asked because that was Elise—she lived her life on her terms, period. And I’ll miss her every day for the rest of my life. That’s how I’m doing this morning. But don’t be shocked if in two hours from now I’m bawling my eyes out and I’ll need you to hold me again.”