He was the kind of guy you wanted to talk to. He had that perfect blonde hair and charming eyes and with little to no effort he captured my heart. We spent the better part of two years together, and what I loved the most was his laugh. He looked so good happy. The way his eyes crinkled into a perfect almond shape and how that little vein in his neck danced in unison with the heaving of his chest somehow managed to trump the million dollar smile that won over all of the girls.
I’m not sure why he picked me. I’m nothing special and certainly not as beautiful as some of the other girls he’s dated, but hearing my name roll off his tongue or holding his hand under the table made all of my insecurities disappear. I felt beautiful and confident, like I was the only person he could ever truly love. As time passed, I knew there was no one more perfect for me and couldn’t imagine loving anyone else for the rest of my life.
“Do you ever think about the future?” I asked with my head resting against his shoulder. He smelled of soap, freshly showered after another sold out performance, and a hint of cologne. Tilting my head up to look into his eyes, I couldn’t help but smile as he nodded. “Five years from now, what do you see?”
“I see….” He hesitated. We’d yet to have anything remotely resembling a serious conversation about our relationship and always took things day by day, simply enjoying our time spent together. “I see another album, maybe two, and a tour.” He bit his lip shyly, drawing his face closer until we were only a few mere inches apart. “Why?”
Pouting, I shrugged my way out of his grasp. “Nickolas!”
“What?” He loved to ruffle my feathers. “You asked!”
“Anything about me in that five year plan of yours?”
Nick tossed his head back, “Ohhh.” Turning, he flashed me a cheeky grin before planting a light kiss on my lips. “I see more than five years with you. I see forever.” I kissed him again, this time bringing my hands up to feel the warmth of his cheeks. I’d never felt so complete.
We spent the rest of the night wrapped up in each others arms, ignoring the world around us. Nick spoke on his plans to propose; it would be on Christmas, of course, because that’s when we all felt the love of the Lord the most and family and friends would be around to witness the event. He just wouldn’t tell me when or how it would take place. “I don’t want to ruin the magic of the night,” he insisted with a laugh. “I don’t want you to be expecting it.” I desperately wanted to know, but I didn’t push it. He had wonderful sentiment and a knack for romance, so I knew it would be something special… whatever it was.
The honking of an approaching car startled me from the daydream I’d slipped into and I scrambled to get up, a layer of snow falling from my clothes as I hurried to the curbside. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re going to get yourself killed out here!” It was my mother. I didn’t bother telling her I wouldn’t mind it too much if I died; that wasn’t exactly in fairness of the holiday spirit. “Come home, dear. Your father and I are worried about you.”
I started walking again, ignoring her constant pleas and finally noticing the numbing cold that had sunken into my bones. It was barely eleven o’clock; if he were here we would be dressing for midnight mass and joking about whether tonight would be the night but instead I was trudging in solitude thinking about how the little girl that once thought she’d never find love, had blossomed into a woman who had found someone that made her feel more passion in two years than most people would ever experience in a lifetime. And that person, her someone, her forever had left her behind in the world.
Without even noticing, tears had begun to fall down my cheeks, and quickening my pace I traveled down the familiar path to sit with him once more. Dropping to my knees, I brushed the powdered snow from his grave and read the tombstone:
1980-2011
Beloved son, brother and friend to all
“Greater love than this no one has, that one lay down his life for his friends.”
John xv:13
Pulling my coat tightly around my body, I eased down into the covered grass. He would have loved that the first snow of the winter had happened on Christmas Eve, and in a small way I kind of believe part of it was his doing. I pressed my ear to the ground, my body shaking from silent cries, praying that by some miracle I would hear his voice again.
Right after his death the radio stations started playing his music religiously. I’m not sure if they were trying for some great mass healing, but I didn’t want to hear the words of his songs. I wanted the comfort of hearing his usual banter and the melodic way he told me he loved me.
“I'm lost without you,” I whimpered, recalling the blasphemous sound of the pipe organ at his funeral. “I keep trying to find my way but all I know is I'm lost without you. Baby I'm so lonely all the time.”
I could hear footsteps approaching, but I didn’t care. My body was collapsed onto the sod that now covered his casket, the one that had been lowered into the ground only four months earlier. “Everywhere I go I get so confused. You're the only thing that's on my mind. My bed's so cold at night and I miss you more each day. If I had only known I'd never hear your voice again, I'd memorize each thing you ever said and on these lonely nights I could think of them again.”
Voices called to me but I couldn’t stop rattling off everything running through my head. “You were the one who always stood beside me and I believed that you would always be there.”
A gentle hand on my back forced me to open my eyes and I slowly pulled myself into a seated position, allowing Brian to join me. He roughly pulled me into his chest, and we both cried for the loss and pain we were feeling. “Every visit I make is a cruel reminder that he died for me, because of me,” he confessed. My eyes scanned his face. Brian looked exhausted and pale in the moonlight. “Greater love than this no one has, that one lay down his life for his friends,” he scoffed.
“You’ve got it wrong,” I argued. “This isn’t your fault. Nick just wanted to protect you.” I closed my eyes, the sounds of screeching tires and shattered glass filling my thoughts. No one really expects to bury their boyfriend, but even more than that, no one expects to watch their boyfriend die right before their own eyes.
It was always a treat to watch Nick and Brian engage in a little friendly competition during basketball. Brian was quick to shoot a playful insult at his friend, while Nick internalized the game, wearing his feelings on his face. Neither one was a fan of losing and after the younger Backstreet Boy had sunk the game winning shot, Brian charged him with a laugh and grin.
He had tried on jumping onto Nicks back with an intention of being carried across the street, but he hadn’t anticipated that Nick would duck. Brian flew into the air and toppled into the street, losing his bearings and crashing his head onto the concrete all at the same time. “Brian!” Nick wailed and ran to shove him out of the way of a speeding car. My heart still stops beating every time I think of that black Trailblazer careening into his body, tossing him like a ragdoll into the air. I don’t remember much of what happened after that. I don’t remember his body falling back down and rolling through the gravel, just that there was a lot of screaming and Nick never opened his eyes again. It wasn’t at all like it’s played out in the movies. There were no emotional last words, no final “I love you,” before his eyes closed and the Lord took him away. He was just gone. The worst part is I can’t even recall the last thing he said to me. I fought with my memory for weeks to remember, but it’s faded.
Sometimes I wonder what he was thinking about when he ran into the street. I wonder if he thought about how alone we would feel, or that I would spend the rest of my days missing him. I even wonder if he knew he was going to die. He had so much to live for.
“Merry Christmas,” Brian mumbled, dropping a small gift wrapped box into my lap. “I’m sorry he couldn’t be here to give it to you.”
Untying the red silk ribbon carefully and pulling back the golden wrapping paper, I found myself holding a small white box. Beneath the lid was a note, Nick’s writing scribbled all over it.
Merry Christmas.
Love,
Your St. Nicholas.
Tears sprung to my eyes as the diamond ring glistened in the still of the night. “He’s had it forever. He found it when we were touring in Europe and just had to get it for you. He had big plans for tonight.”
“I’m sure he did.” I slipped the ring onto my finger, admiring the way it looked and wishing my Nickolas had been the one to put it there. “I’m not sure I should keep it though.”
“Why not? It’s yours. He wanted you to have it.” I nodded and mouthed a silent thank you. “Come on, let’s get you inside someplace warm. We can go back and have some hot chocolate with Leighanne. She really misses you.”
Brian and I stood and locked our fingers together. “How did you know I’d be here?” I asked curiously. I rarely went to visit Nick’s grave. There were other places I’d rather celebrate his life.
“It’s Christmas. You two are always together for Christmas.”
I cried out and threw my arms around his neck. We both needed to feel safe, untouchable, if only for a moment. As we started back to his car, I stopped for a moment and broke away from his grasp, turning back to say one last goodbye to Nick. Tracing my finger in the freshly fallen snow atop of the headstone, I smiled. “In case you were wondering, I would have said yes.”
