Tracey Eboigbe

Realization

I arrived at the hospital a quarter to noon, I saw a few students from our graduating class, they were huddled together in a corner near the main entrance. I saw Chyna. She had tears in her eyes. “How is she?” Fighting back tears she said, “She died early this morning, I’m so sorry Justin…I’m sorry” I felt like it was me who died just then, my heart seemed to stop beating for a while. I hated myself for not answering the phone last night, maybe then I could have seen her one last time.
I turned around and walked through the exit. I stood there for a while, feeling the harshness of the outdoors against my face. My eyes began to swell with tears, my lips quivering; I just couldn’t believe it, my dear friend, my one and true love was gone. We had dated for nearly two years and had recently broken it off because my college was in another state and not seeing her as much was killing me. We were still close though, and it hurt me to know that I would never be able to hug her again, walk through the park with her by my side, or feel her wet kisses against my lips. I was furious with myself for being so selfish. I needed to know more, I walked slowly back inside. Chyna gave me a hug, and told me, “It’s gonna be okay, she’s through suffering. She’s free now.” I couldn’t find the strength to respond. I just hugged her back and reminisced on all the moments, Leslie and I had shared. We had been friends since fifth grade, went to every dance together including prom. I had stood by her side on every trip to the hospital, when her sickle cell was acting up. I was there! And now I was here…alone.
           

The following week was one of the hardest times of my life, summer was coming to a close and I had so much to deal with before school. I spoke at Leslie’s funeral and it was hard for me to share the joyous times of her life and know that this was it. She was gone…forever. I was at a loss for words, but expressed my love for her, and our love for one another. I had to erase her number from my cell phone, to realize she wasn’t coming back, no matter how much I wanted her to. I took new routes to just about everywhere, everything reminded me of Leslie. I cried every time I mistakenly drove past her house or the park we shared our first kiss. I was numb, it was easier than dealing with my emotions. The conversations I had with her mother helped me through, her words comforted me. She had Leslie’s same spirit; she strived to find the positive as well.

I decided to transfer to a university that was closer to home. I wanted to be close to my family and the ones I loved. I started a foundation that year in honor of Leslie, to find a cure for sickle cell, to prevent someone else from going through what I had experienced.
Chyna and I became good friends; I had gone to school with her for over four years and never really took the time to get to know her. We talked about the good times we had with Leslie, and it was comforting to talk with someone who felt my pain. I wonder sometimes if Leslie would approve that we are together. I still think of her.