“What are you thinking about?”
I let out a breath. “The same things…” I answer.
We stare out at the water again. A few seagulls cry overhead. After some silence, Yuki asks, “Do you still have those nightmares?”
I think about the crystal I still keep with me. It’s tucked safely inside the pocket of my bag. I never leave the house without it. “Actually, I don’t anymore. I think what you gave me got rid of them.”
“I’m glad it helped.”
I take a sip of coffee, letting it warm my throat. I can’t tell Yuki what’s really bothering me. How I keep imagining a future with Sam still in it. Though I know these calls won’t last forever, I can’t seem to let go of our connection, even though it’s already breaking. I keep thinking about what Mika said to me the night of the festival. About holding on to Sam.
“This isn’t good for you … And I don’t know if it’s good for him, either.”
I replay the conversation in my head. What exactly did she mean by that? Am I hurting Sam by holding on for as long as I can? Am I keeping him from something? As much as I love him, I don’t want to force him to stay longer. Especially if he needs to move on, wherever that is. This is his choice, too. After all, it was him who picked up my call in the first place. After a while, I turn to Yuki. “Remember what you said about my dreams? The ones about Sam, I mean. How I should seek the opposite to find balance or something…”
Yuki nods. “I remember.”
“I thought about it,” I say, staring down at my phone again, holding it tight. “I think it’s obvious what it means now. It means I have to stop thinking about him. That I have to let him go and move on with my life.” I let out a deep breath. “I wish it was easier for me.”
Yuki looks away, as if taking this in. After a moment, she says, “You know, I don’t think you could let Sam go. Even if you really wanted to.”
“What do you mean?”
“I guess what I mean is, Sam is still very much a part of your life, isn’t he?” she says. “He might be physically gone, but you will always carry a piece of him with you. I know your time with Sam was much shorter than you wanted it to be, but that time together isn’t something you can give back. Letting go isn’t about forgetting. It’s balancing moving forward with life, and looking back from time to time, remembering the people in it.”
I stare out at the water again, thinking. If only she understood how different it is for me. I’m the only one who will have to lose him twice.
Yuki touches my hand. “I know this is still hard for you. But I’m glad you decided to come today. I’m glad we’re spending time together again.”
I smile. “I’m glad, too.”
Someone whistles to our left, and we both look up from the bench. Jay and Oliver are standing against the rail of the boardwalk, holding churros. The two of them have been inseparable lately. I sense some sparks between them.
Oliver waves at us. “We got churros!”
“Come back up!” Jay shouts over. “There are sea lions.”
Yuki and I exchange smirks.
“You know, I really like those two together,” Yuki says.
“I really do, too.”
As the sky finally clears, we spend the rest of the day on the waterfront. After lunch and some candle shopping, we head to the aquarium to look for otters, because they’re Oliver’s favorite animal. Jay suggests we buy matching hats to commemorate the trip, and we wear them during our stroll through the sculpture park. Since it’s too late to ride the ferry, we head over to Pier 57 and take a ride on the Ferris wheel. When I look out at our view from two hundred feet in the air, I think of Sam, and the memory of us at the fair fills me with warmth.
* * *
As the others head back home that night, I decide to stay in Seattle to spend the rest of the weekend with my dad. He’s been asking me for weeks to come visit him. The second he steps out of his car to pick me up, my eyes start watering. I forgot how much I missed him. He’s always known how to make things better without needing to ask what’s wrong. He even called my mom, asking if I could skip school so we can spend another day together. We do all my favorite things—have pancakes at the diner in Portage Bay where we used to live, drink pour-over coffee in Pioneer Square, and visit my favorite bookstores on 10th Avenue. Being away from Ellensburg was exactly what I needed after all. I still think about Sam from time to time, but the memories are fond, letting me breathe easier. Even though he isn’t here, I still see him everywhere. And for the first time, the thought of this brings me comfort.