I promised her that I’d meet her here, her favorite park down the street from the public library. But it’s been four years. I had moved away because my father had found a better job in South Carolina. I remember pushing her on the swing I sit on now, her auburn hair blowing in the evening wind that had followed a beautiful a beautiful May day just like today. Her laugh had permanently embedded a smile on my face. It was like hearing birds chirping outside your window on the perfect morning. In itself her laugh was perfection.
When it was time for us to go I had put my hands on her shoulders and looked into her blue-green eyes.
“Miriam,” I said. “I want to promise you something.”
“What?” She was nervous, I could see it in her features.
“I promise you that we’ll meet here when we’re seniors in high school if I haven’t come back by then.”
She had laughed and told me that we were in eighth grade; senior year was too far away.
And I had replied, “No it’s not. It’ll go by fast as long as you think of me.”
A deep blush had creped upon her cheeks as she nodded in agreement.
I find myself smiling at the memory. I sure was a romantic eighth grader I thought chuckling.
As the day turned into twilight I grabbed my back pack and lazily slung it over my shoulder. I guess the promise hadn’t meant so much to her. While I walked the quiet streets with my head bent down I couldn’t help but think of why she had not met me. Maybe she had to stay in to study or maybe she had to babysit.
Still thinking on what ad happened I decided to look her up in the yellow pages, hopefully she was listed. Actually maybe not her but her mother, what was her name … oh right Patricia. After looking through about a page of names that started with the letter P I found her, Patricia Kennedy. I took out my cell phone and carefully dialed the numbers next to the name, taking a deep breath.
“Hello?” A woman answered after a couple of rings.
“Yes, hi, my name is Justin Taylor and I’m looking for Miriam Kennedy?” The voice on the other line said nothing so I added, “I’m an old friend. I used to go to school with her.”
After a sigh the woman replied. “What was your name again young man?”
“Justin Taylor, I used to live here. My parents and I moved away about four years ago.”
“Oh my, Justin, I remember you now.” She sounded surprised to be talking to me. “Justin, why don’t you stop by?” She proceeded to give me her address and I set off to finally see Miriam.
The house was a two story family home with a reddish brick exterior. It was pretty modern compared to the other houses in town. I walked across the crisp green lawn and up the steps to the front door. Giving three quick knocks I waited for someone to open. I was nervous. What if she didn’t remember me?
“Hello Justin.” Mrs. Kennedy said giving me a hug. She was a woman in her late forties with wrinkles around her eyes. She looked sleep deprived. With her long New England Patriots shirt on and mom jeans she looked like every other mother in this town. “Please come in.”
After giving me a glass of home made lemonade, Mrs. Kennedy sat on the beige couch in front of me. Where was Miriam?
“Justin there’s something you need to know.” She swallowed and looked at me with sorrowed eyes.
“Ok”
“Miriam,” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Miriam isn’t here any more. She committed suicide about six months ago.” Her voice was pained.
The wind was knocked out of me that instance. No, Miriam wouldn’t do that. I blinked back my tears as I ran my fingers through my chestnut colored hair. Mrs. Kennedy looked at me with a remorseful expression. I didn’t really know how to react.
“W-why?” I managed to stammer.
“Miriam’s father passed away near the end of her freshman year. She didn’t handle it to well.” She paused. “The reason I remember you is because Miriam kept a journal. She only wrote to you, except for the first entry. She wrote to me and told me that I was not to read anything after that page because the journal was for you.
“She also told me about the promise you made to her and how if you kept your promise I was to give you the journal to keep.” Getting up Mrs. Kennedy walked across the living room toward her large Mahogany china cabinet where she took out a journal, the journal, from a drawer.
“Here.” She said holding it out for me to take, but I couldn’t. I was afraid to. “It’s all right.” Mrs. Kennedy encouraged me. Taking a hold of it I looked at the cover for a brief second. Across the top in black Sharpie were the words Have Faith in Me in cursive. Underneath that was a picture of a sun beginning to get covered by clouds, colored with different colored Sharpies. I’m guessing she drew it herself, I thought sadly. The journal itself was blue, the pages white. Slowly, I opened the journal to find small message in the same cursive writing on the inside cover.
“Start from the back, read the last page first and then return to the front. – Miriam"
With shaking hands I carefully turned to the last page and found it to be a page long.
“Dear Justin,
I remember the day before you left. You know, when we were at the park? That memory has helped me through all this time. Justin, I never really told you this, but I truly did love you. It just became too much to bear. I’ll tell you everything I think you’d like to know in this journal. I’m writing this right before I go so that you will be the last thing I think about. Justin, my dad died. I’m sure my mom will tell you that. After that I lost control of my life. I lost control and started cutting into my skin. And then soon I realized this was my only was out. But Justin from all the bad things in my life you were the only good memory. Please remember that while you cope. Just have faith in me. Have faith that I’ll love you for eternity and believe me when I tell you that I thought of you everyday until my end. I love you.
P.S- I promise I’ll never let you go during my perpetual sleep. Meet me in front of the gates of Heaven, if that’s where I go. But take your time. I love you."
I could feel the tears on my face but I did nothing to stop them. I loved her so much. I have loved her for so long. As I closed her journal I found myself whispering, “I’ll love you forever Miriam.”
