Memento Mori


I stood in the wings, waiting for the dance routine programmed before me to end. I alternately arched my feet to warm them up. The last chords of the music played and the dancers struck their pose just before the audience sounded their applause.

The lights dimmed and there was a flurry of performers running past me off of the stage, whispering, "break a leg, Evie."

I took a deep breath and silently walked out alone onto the dark stage to take my place. The soft, painful melody of our song filled my ears.

I took a deep breath and allowed the memories to flood my soul and move my body.

It was the summer before my sophomore year in high school when I met him. He had the kind of eyelashes wasted on children. And when you looked closely into his eyes, they were blue outlined in yellow; blending into the most brilliant emerald.

"Wanna know one of the reasons why I love God so much?" He cupped my chin in his hands.

"Why?" I asked him with a smile playing at the corners of my mouth.

"Because he made you just for me."

He was always saying and doing things like that; things that made you roll your eyes on the outside and completely melt on the inside. Things that made you wonder where he came from.

Things that still make my heart break.

Because before him, my life had been spent restlessly in a waiting room much like all of our lives at some point; wondering why time seems to drag on, wondering when it'll be our turn, wondering what's in store for us when we finally walk through that door. And I think all of us at some point desire companionship; a person to sit...and wait with us.

And that's what he did. He came along beside me and held my hand for a while.