WalkingAway

By LiLin

Song: What Hurts The Most – Rascal Flatts

He hobbled down the sidewalk slowly, looking up at the rapidly darkening sky. The plastic bag swung gently in his hands as he tried to speed up. It would do his old bones no good to be caught in a thunderstorm without an umbrella. The first drops of cold rain started coming down and pelting his worn windbreaker. He winced in pain as his leg began throbbing again. Wearily, he dragged himself towards the shelter instead. There was no way he could get home before it began to storm. Just as he expected, there was a clash of thunder and a jagged fork of lightning the moment he sat down in the shelter.

There was a girl in her early thirties sitting on the other side of the shelter gazing mournfully at a photo. She looked up as he sat down and he acknowledged her presence with a nod. She gave him a small smile back and returned to looking at her photo. The old man shrugged. Judging by the look on her face, she had probably ended a relationship recently.

Opening the plastic bag, he took out a sandwich. Might as well eat his sandwich while waiting for the rain to stop. As he lifted the sandwich to his mouth, there was a muffled sniff from the other side of the shelter. He turned slightly to see the girl dissolving into tears, her fingers tightening around the photo.

“Girl,” he called out gently over the sound of falling rain. “Are you alright?”

She made a choking noise and nodded, gesturing to the photo. She must have seen the puzzled frown on the old man’s face as she got up and walked over to sit with him. Seeing how heart broken she looked, his heart wrenched. He offered her the sandwich he was holding and got a watery smile in return.

I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don’t bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out
I’m not afraid to cry every once in a while
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again I pretend I’m ok
But that’s not what gets me

“I’m sorry. I know it’s weird to…” she paused, then glanced down at the photo again. “Talk to strangers about this and stuff but...”

“It’s alright, girl. You can talk,” he interrupted in a fatherly way. He had never married, and never had a daughter, but she looked like how he would expect his own daughter to be.

“My mother… she passed away last month and there are times when I just can’t stop thinking about her,” she began tearfully, handing him the photo she was holding. “That’s her when she was twenty. I don’t know who that guy is but she wouldn’t tell me either.”

The old man took the photo and looked at it. Soft curls were falling gently about a young, angelic face. Still, there was an apparent trace of sadness in her face. There was a young man standing next to her, the same, reluctant look on his face with an arm around her shoulders.

“S… Seraphina?”

What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was tryin’ to do

The girl watched as the stranger’s eyes misted over with unshed tears when he uttered her mother’s name. A single tear fell from his eyes and his hand shook. She piped up hesitantly, “You knew my mother, sir?”

“Where’s your father, girl?” He asked tentatively, still holding the photo tightly.

“I… He… My parents divorced when I was five. My mother raised me up single-handedly…” she trailed off when she saw him closing his eyes and leaning back against the railing.

Flashback

“Don’t go. Please don’t go,” she was crying into his shoulder, her shoulders shaking with each racking sob. “I don’t want you to die.”

His heart broke as he held her body in his arms. She had been his best friend ever since they were kids. He would be lying through his teeth if he said he had never carried a torch for her. Yet now, he might never see her again. War was a disgusting creature, that took lives and broke hearts.

“I’ll be back.” He said simply. “I won’t die, and you know I never break my promises to you.”

“You can’t leave!” She pressed her face into his chest harder than ever as he tried to pull away. He had to leave. The army was setting off soon. He held back the tears that threatened to spill. He would not cry. His arm slid away from her waist as he pulled his body away. Leaning down, he placed his lips on hers for a split-second and ran off, leaving her to clutch tearfully at thin air, watching him walk away.

It’s hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go
But I’m doin’ It
It’s hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I’m alone
Still Harder
Getting up, getting dressed, livin’ with this regret
But I know if I could do it over
I would trade give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken

The town was different from the way he had left it. The war ended very quickly, but his leg had been injured and scarred badly. He could not bring himself to go back and see her again, not in the pathetic state he was in. He was now twenty-six, and it was five years since he left her. He limped through the busy streets. Idly, he wondered if she was still awaiting his return. Most soldiers had rushed home as fast as they could after the war, but he had lived with his aunt in another town instead. Would she still be waiting?

He hobbled pass a newly opened teashop and took a curious peek in. he doubled back and frowned at the lady behind the counter. Her hair was curled softly, and pulled back from her face with a pink hair band. She smiled that gentle smile at her customers. Her gray eyes twinkled merrily as she scanned the crowded shop. Before her eyes landed on the man looking in through her window at her. Their eyes met and her mouth fell open, recognition flashing across her face.

She pushed her way through the throngs of people and out the door, looking around wildly. He had turned his back and limped away. She could not see him in this state. A familiar voice called out to him.

“Lucas , wait!” She shouted. He was lost amongst the crowds. “Lucas , is that you? Luc!”

He was gone. And she had watched him walk away.

What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do

A beige envelope was pushed through the flap in his door. Getting up from his seat next to the fireplace, he went over and picked it up, bringing it to his seat. ‘Lucas’ was written neatly on it. There was no address, no nothing. Frowning, he unsealed the envelope. It was a card, a photo, and a letter. He looked at the letter. ‘Dear Luc’, it began. There was only one person who would call him Luc. The back of the photo had the words ‘I hope you’ll remember me’ in her handwriting. And the card… it was a wedding invitation. She was getting married.

A stabbing pain drove through his heart as an unexplainable tension took over his body. He crushed everything, and threw them into the fireplace. Silently, he watched on as the fire darkened the edges of the papers. He watched the flames dance and consume everything. The edges curled, darkened, and gradually disappeared.

He broke his promise.

What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do

‘Dear Luc, I don’t know if you heard, but my… I’m naming her… after you.’

He scanned through the words then tossed the letter into the bin. Why remember him at all? There was no point. He had been to her wedding, hiding at the back. He watched her walking down the aisle, and out of his life. She got the better life she deserved, one she would never get with him. She had walked out of his life, and he walked out of hers too.

End Flashback

“Sir?” The young lady’s voice was uncertain. “Are you alright?”

“What’s your name, girl?”

“Lucinda. Why?” His heart shattered into a million pieces. He told her… he told her decades ago, that if he ever had a daughter, he would name her Seraphina after her. And she promised that her first child would be named after him too. She kept her promise. His head whirled at top speed.

“Sir, are you okay? Do you need help?” The young lady was getting frantic. The old man was shaking his head again and again, mumbling something under his breath. “Sir!”

Not seeing that loving you
That’s what I was trying to do

“I just didn’t want to hurt her.” He whispered to the chilly air, seeming unaware of the other person in the shelter. “So I walked away. And I kept walking away.”

“Sir?”

“I loved her.”