In case you missed them, I'm posting all the entries of the Avery Diaries here so that they can be easily found on my extras page. :) And a special thanks to Colorimetry, Reading Teen, I Am A Reader, Not A Writer, Book Passion For Life, Confessions of a Bookaholic and A Life Bound By Books for originally hosting these stories! You guys are the best!
"I See London, I See France"
(Avery)
Dear Diary,
Though I am
clearly past the shock, denial and bargaining stages of grief, I have not
attained guilt yet. If I had to describe myself as anything right now, I would
say I’m simply empty. Sad, hurt and empty.
What happened
between Aiden and myself was tragic, but, really, it was nobody’s fault. Aiden
has as much right to his feelings as I do mine. He did what he did because it’s
what he needed, not because of something I’d done. Even Grayson agrees that I
did nothing wrong. He’s told me a hundred times already that I have nothing to
feel guilty about.
Grayson’s right.
I have nothing to feel guilty about. And I don’t. Feel guilty, that is. It’s
been days and still the guilt won’t come. I’m not even sure what I’m supposed
to feel guilty about. I just know it’s the next stage in the grieving process.
As part of the
Avery Shaw Experiment, I have decided to try and let the stages of grief occur
naturally. However, that doesn’t mean that I will sit around waiting for
acceptance and a cured heart to find me. No one has ever achieved results by
being stagnant.
I’ve decided
that the best thing for me to do is that which true mourners do—try to move on
with my life. I need to stop dwelling on the past. I need to accept that my
relationship with Aiden will never go back to the way it was, and that my life
has changed in a very permanent way. I will never be the same.
I figured step
one of “moving on” was to purge my life of all things Aiden Kennedy. Tonight I
had Grayson come over to my house and help me remove everything that reminded
me of Aiden. My Theory was that if I see nothing that sparks a memory, then I
would be able to think of Aiden less and it would be easier for me to forget
him.
This experience
was much harder and more painful than I thought it would be. I never could have
done it without Grayson’s support and encouragement. Crying in front of him was
embarrassing, but he didn’t seem to think any less of me for it. I’m grateful
to have such an understanding partner.
After it was all
over—Grayson had to pry the garbage bag full of memories from my hands and
drive away with it, or all of that stuff would have ended up right back in its
place—I expected to feel better. I expected some sort of closure or sense of
relief. Instead I looked around at all the bare walls and dust outlines on the
dresser and cried even harder.
The empty spots
where the pictures and souvenirs once were now stand as reminders
themselves—big empty voids just like the one in my heart that used to be filled
with my best friend. Part of me is missing. It’s as if I am an amputee missing
an arm or a leg.
The spot on my
wall where I used to hang a poster of Albert Einstein that Aiden had given me
after I’d dressed as the brilliant physicist for Halloween in middle school was
the most obvious gaping hole. I took one look at that spot and broke down.
When I lost it,
Grayson wrapped his arms around me and told me he knew how to fix the problem
and then disappeared slamming my bedroom door shut behind him. After a minute,
he came back and I watched, bewildered, as he pinned a pair of smiley face
boxer shorts to my wall where Einstein used to watch over me.
I couldn’t help
the way my horrified gaze dropped to Grayson’s pants. He burst into laughter,
knowing what I’d been thinking, and insisted that the shorts now on my wall
were his emergency pair—clean and washed—that he kept in his gym bag, and that
this was most definitely an emergency.
I asked why he
tacked his underwear up on my bedroom wall and he told me because now every
time I looked at that spot I would think of him and laugh instead of thinking
of Aiden and crying. He was right. I can’t help smiling at the ridiculous smiley
faces.
He also told me
that they would help me have good dreams. When I asked why he said because I
would dream about him being mostly naked instead of having nightmares of Aiden
leaving me. I’d freaked out so badly that he’d had to prompt me to breathe
again. I don’t know that I’ll have any dreams at night, but the daydreams are
already ridiculous. I can’t stop picturing him in those shorts! I’m going to
have to get something to replace them. Soon!
