The explosion that lit the night sky reflected in the water below. The flecks of burning gold fizzled, then died on the glass-like surface, unnoticed by everyone except a single man who stood alone. While every pair of eyes gazed at the heavens, his were turned downward as if searching for the heart that had fallen out of his chest only hours before. He simply couldn't take in the display on the usual evening canvas, but watching it play out in the reflection of his sports bottle hadn't resized the pain, just the fireworks themselves.
As he let out a roar of frustration, his arm flailed, tossing the contents onto the thirsty concrete. The aluminum container now as empty as he felt, he screwed the cap back on and turned his back on the celebration.
She had told him it was over. Almost ten years of their relationship erased by a single scar on his body. The surgery had changed him, she said. The whole thing had become too much work and she had worn herself out learning all of the things she would have to adjust around his varied physical needs. They were walking from the house to the car, on their way to this very fireworks show, when he had noticed the luggage piled high in the back seat.
“Planning something special this evening?” The words had been so light, so playful, so full of love. He had never stopped loving her and everyone said his whole being radiated that love like a single flame in the darkest night.
She hadn't even looked at him when she had answered, just walked to the driver's side of her car and opened the door. “I'm not going to the fireworks,” she told him. “I'm going to my sister's house.”
At first the words didn't seem real. They spun in his head until they mixed themselves into some other language that he couldn't recognize. Stupidly he blinked and looked around, as if the answer to his confusion was going to sprout up from their front yard like a weed. “If you do that we'll miss the-”
“I'm /not/ going!” She nearly screamed the words, her face flushing with anger.
From his lips came the one word that hatches out of every heart that has ever been broken, the word that claws its way up the throat and forces its way out into the world, feeling hard as a stone and sharp as a knife, but sounding as soft as every breath of hope that has ever been whispered: “Why?”
The answer to this word is never as gentle as the breath that that gave it life.
When her explanation reached it's end, she hadn't given him a chance to respond, just dropped her body into the car and slammed the door. As the car shrank into the distance, every emotion he had ever felt seemed to yank out of him, jumping on the pavement like cans dangling off of some imaginary strings tied to the back, under an invisible sign that read, “Just Separated!”
Fireworks had been their big, romantic thing. They always had a picnic before and a midnight stroll afterwards, filling the in-between time with the beauty of twinkling stars and colorful bursts of heavenly glitter. Stretched out on the blanket and staring up at the display, they would hold hands and whisper daydreams about the future. Every year, every time the county had a fireworks show, they would be there. They hadn't missed one until today.
So here he was, following a path that used to be clear but now seemed washed out by the waters of a massive flood. Landmarks seemed familiar yet strange, melting in his memory until they were jumbles of what once was, instead of actual objects that marked his way. He found he couldn't settle under their tree, so he wandered, unknowingly acting out their planned date in reverse until he had found himself standing at the car, key in hand. He collapsed inside, tears pouring from his eyes and body shaking out every bit of emotion left within him as it trembled with sadness. His heart began to thud in such a loud, hard rhythm that he was certain it would explode.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
Bam. Bam. Bam!
“Hey! Open up!” The voice was his sister in law's and he quickly realized that the thudding sound was not his heart, but her palm on the window.
Slowly his head lifted and his eyes forced cohesion to the shapes beyond the moisture that continued to fill them.
“I said open up!”
He did and a heavy weight was shoved on top of him. At first he was certain the woman had tossed a literal sack of potatoes into his lap, but when it let out a protesting yelp, he knew the sound right away.
“I told her she was being stupid,” his sister in law hissed. “The two of you are going to stay here until you sort this thing out.”
As the explosions of the finale continued above them, the rhythm of memory gradually pulsed back into the two hearts below. Slowly the whispers began as the couple found their way, ignoring the voice of the police officer that casually repeated. “Move along. Nothing to see here.”
