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April 2021

Madison, Wisconsin

Like a true nature's child

We were born, born to be wild

We can climb so high

I never wanna die…

It’s difficult to put Leah’s emotional state into words at that moment. Saying she was struggling would barely scratch the surface; it was like comparing a vast ocean to a mere puddle.

That evening – which I like to think of as Leah’s new beginning – the city was gripped by cold. The temperatures had dropped throughout the day, almost in perfect harmony with her emotions, as if the weather itself wanted to mourn alongside her. Through the earphones hanging around her neck, Born to Be Wild played with a cheer that cruelly contrasted with her slow, despondent sway on one of the old, lonely swings at Brittingham Park, facing Lake Monona.

Once more, that crushing emptiness, the same feeling that had taken residence in her chest over the past year like a predator patiently stalking its prey, began to swell. It was like an invisible hand gripping her throat, stealing her breath and cruelly reminding her of everything she’d lost.

Leah held onto the swing's chains, feeling the cold, harsh metal digging into her palms. It was almost a relief: if the emotional pain tearing her apart wasn’t enough, she could still punish herself with physical pain. But recognising the destructive spiral, she loosened her grip. The air seemed to refuse entry to her lungs as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the deafening buzz that filled her ears.

“Breathe,” she urged herself, desperately reaching into her memories for a voice she feared was fading.

After what felt like an eternity, Leah managed to regain control. Opening her eyes, she took in the gorgeous array of ochre tones spilling across the horizon over the lake. She named each one in her mind until the claw of anxiety that had gripped her throat began to ease. Finally, she could breathe steadily, though a stubborn ache lingered for a few moments more.

Brittingham Park was her favourite place in the world. She’d grown up watching the vivid spectacle that Lake Monona offered each sunset. The swing, the lake, and those sunsets were the only things that still, in some way, connected her to Mark, the love of her life.

They’d pledged their love at eight years old, long before they understood what that word meant, but they were certain they were meant for each other. Their love had been a slow burn, maturing day by day for twenty-four years, until just over a year ago. But even all that time together hadn’t been enough for her, and although everyone assured her she’d learn to live with the pain, to Leah, it was simply inconceivable. How could anyone expect her to carry on without him?

The pain in her chest each time reality struck was devastating. She would never again hear his laughter echo through the kitchen, feel his warmth as he turned over in bed reaching for her embrace, or bicker over trivial things like not leaving the keys on the hook by the door. It was that void, that constant absence of everyday moments, which became increasingly unbearable by the day.

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“And now look up at the sky,” Mark’s voice whispered through her earphones. “You’ll see the stars awakening to wish you goodnight.”

Leah sobbed, her eyes fixed on the glow of the night’s first stars. She longed for those bright blue eyes she loved so much to be watching her from somewhere in that vast universe. Astronomer – that had been Mark’s dream since he was young. Studying the infinity of the cosmos had become his life’s purpose and, though he had sacrificed many things along the way, like summers in Wisconsin with Leah, he had finally achieved his goal, becoming a true up-and-coming astronomer.

“I can’t, Mark,” she sobbed as tears blurred her vision. “I swear I’ve tried, but I don’t know how to live without you.”

“You can, and you will, Leah. You were someone before you met me, you were someone beside me, and you’ll still be someone without me. Please, promise me you’ll be happy again.”

Mark’s voice, fainter with each memory, took her back to the last sunset they shared. No one could understand the depth of her loss. He’d no longer calm her storms with a smile, or hold her when nightmares woke her in the middle of the night. He’d never again whisper to her that everything would be alright. Mark was gone forever, and she simply couldn’t, wouldn’t, accept that she’d been left empty and alone.

With that tempest of emotions raging within, Leah pressed her fist to her chest, trying to ease the grip that now felt as though it would tear her heart out. She was convinced that what beat in her chest was no longer anything but a phantom organ, like an amputated limb that aches despite no longer being there.

Each day she felt more fragile, more exhausted, and more frightened. Even simple tasks like breathing or swallowing had become real challenges. She felt shattered, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t piece herself back together.

She had sought professional help, took sedatives to sleep and antidepressants. Her therapist assured her that one day something would “click” inside her, and she would begin to heal, but Leah felt farther and farther from that moment.

Deep down, Leah was absolutely certain that the void that had taken over her chest, consuming her day by day, could never be filled by anything or anyone.

Leah took a deep breath, filling her lungs until they burned. Mark’s voice was fading from her memory with each day, but another remained clear: that of Kal, her best friend from her teenage years. Ten years ago, during one of their film nights, Kal had quoted a scene from Batman that now took on a special meaning. Harvey Dent’s words, spoken by Kal, had etched themselves into her mind with the same intensity with which he used to say them.

“The night is darkest just before the dawn... and I promise you, dawn is coming.”

Something within her sparked inexplicably, like a glimmer in the darkness. Her heartbeat began to slow, and the suffocating sensation gradually eased.

A little voice in her head, suspiciously similar to Kal’s, urged her to hang on. Dawn was close.

And there, right at that moment, hearing those words branded into her mind in Kal’s voice, Leah unknowingly changed her fate.

She reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out her phone, and looked at the screen, pausing the audio she listened to every sunset by the lake. It was the recording her fiancé had left her before he passed, reminding her that, though he was no longer with her, every night, when the stars crowned the sky, he would be there, remembering how much he loved her.

Her phone vibrated, and though she saw a new email notification, she simply locked the screen, put it back in her pocket, and trudged towards the buildings behind her. There was the apartment she and Mark had bought when they were just twenty: a small attic flat overlooking the lake that had seen them grow, laugh, and dream.

That little home they had built together had once been her sanctuary. But for Leah, it had transformed into a prison of memories from which she lacked the courage to escape, terrified that leaving would mean beginning to forget him.

As she pulled out her keys, her phone started ringing with the tune she’d assigned to her brother John, prompting a sigh. She couldn’t talk to him; John would notice immediately that she’d been crying, worry himself sick, and be there in under ten minutes. She stood frozen in front of the door, listening to that cheerful jingle that had always reminded her of her older brother. Only when the call ended did she dare to slide the key into the lock and enter the building.