I used to think ever since I woke up that psychological troubles will be the worst I will have to deal with.
A dissonance with my own identity, troubles with my own gender, interaction with people of the two sexes. But as it seems now, that is not the worst. Actually, I am living well, somewhat. I'm adjusting to the best of my abilities. And I have Liz.
With Liz, everything seems easy. But I was wrong. The world itself is my worst trouble, not the echoes of my past.
I'm a little happy to be a woman in this life. I am of a gender that is easy to overlook, even with the things about giving everyone the same opportunities and not looking down on women. So maybe, with that, I will have just that little bit of additional advantage going forward.
"Haaa…"
I exhale as the plane touches down, and I raise my head from Liz's shoulder.
Yes, I didn't sit straight when we were landing, sue me. Without Liz's warmth, I would have been losing my mind.
She smiles at me, and stands up. I follow her down the plane, and the smell that hits me is already different from everything I have known.
The sea, given the way it is in this life, is a prized destination, but a pricey one. This is my first time coming close to it.
This time, there is no trouble at the airport. We hail a taxi, and go to the beach. Liz had my hand wrapped in hers on the back seat where we are. She looks outside and sighs with a small smile:
"I have never been to the beach before either."
About half an hour later, we arrive, and I suddenly don't feel much interest in the body of water anymore. It is not much different from the beaches I vaguely remember from my past life. Actually, it makes a blurry image of myself barechested flash through my mind, and that causes me discomfort, as the wind moves my dress.
I tuck my hair behind my ear on the left side, and I exhale. I turn to Liz who was taking the urns out of the trunk. This time, she doesn't refuse my help. This time, it is different from taking our luggage.
We leave the taxi behind after making the driver wait for us. We walk, with Liz helping me, and we leave the more frequented part of the beach we have come to. The chilly breeze is salty, and it feels cold on my bare arms, but the urns I am holding keep my attention.
I'm holding mom and dad, and Liz is holding grandma and grandpa.
The troubles in my mind take the backseat faced with the weight I am holding. At some point, my movements become mechanical. I don't pay attention to the road. I only let Liz guide me.
I'm feeling stifled, because apart from grief, other feelings since I have woken up from the coma after the accident have created a hodgepodge in my mind. They are now like behind a veil, close, but out of reach.
Even the annoyance their state is causing me is like behind another veil. Only the weight in my hand is clear.
When we arrive at a rocky part lf the beach without anyone, we leave the road and we descend to get close to the water. The car could have taken us closer to this place, but at that moment, my heart faintly understands Liz.
The walk is like a goodbye. It is a last trip together before we let everyone who has left go.
She stops me from getting too close to the water. I wanted to step into the sea, but I don't resist. I look at her, then look down, before I open the urns.
The sight of the ashes hit me more than my memory of the accident. But they bring back the sight of the blood that splashed me.
It squeezes my heart, and makes me feel suffocated. The pain makes me hunch my back slightly, I don't cave in. I bite my lip, and fight back the nausea.
I force myself to keep everything bottled up, and I free the ashes. I watch them go with the wind, and the whisper I have been expecting, I don't hear it. I don't hear any goodbye.
I bite my lips harder, and I turn to Liz. Sadness is overflowing from her eyes as she looks at the ashes going away. Her sadness that she has always hidden, and that I am seeing for the first time.
Suddenly, my pain is not so crippling anymore, not now that I see what I have been suspecting was there, what I knew was there, but which Liz just didn't want to let me see.
At this moment, I don't even think about the thoughts that have been in my mind since the encounter with the pervert security guard at the airport anymore.
I hold the urns with one hand, and I touch Liz on the arm. That snaps her out of her daze.
After glancing at me, she tries to force a smile, but I shake my head softly. She sees the reflection of her sadness in my eyes. She lowers her head, and after she takes a moment to gather herself, to say goodbye, she frees the ashes of our grandparents too.
I lock my arm with hers, and we stay like that, looking at the wind that was supposed to be invisible, but which is now carrying the ones who have loved us.
I bite my lip, and for the first time, I see Liz shed tears. This time, it is her turn. I don't shed tears, I don't want her to turn to me and console me.
This time, I am the one to console her. So I tighten my lock on her arm, and half-lean on her. I give her my warmth in the chill of our silent goodbyes, in the chill of our new life, a life alone this time.