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Diarmuid

 

 

 

My heart felt like it took on the weight of the world after I walked away from Saoirse that day.

I could still see the image of that weedy pale boy on top of her. Could hear the echoes of her crying stop. Could feel her fragile, girlish body shaking in the sheets as I held her afterwards.

They would haunt me until my dying breath.

So would her last words to me, “I hate you. I never want to see you again.”

Knowing she hated me, crushed me.

But another part of me welcomed it. Because I deserved her hate.

I’d failed her by not seeing her crush developing. By not being able to stop the consequences. By causing her to throw her virginity away.

It should have been with someone special.

With someone who deserved her.

Most of all, I failed her because I was leaving.

My arms felt like lead as I packed up our place in Dublin, Ava laughing on the phone to her ma in the background like the crackle of an out-of-tune radio.

I came across the leftover wrapping paper from Saoirse’s birthday and smiled at the memory of her face as she’d opened her gift. I thumbed the shirt that she’d worn that night she stayed over, still unwashed, still smelling faintly of her soap.

I found Saoirse’s end-of-year report card, an A+ in Science, which she’d given to me.

“This is thanks to you,” she’d said, pride shining in those emerald eyes.

I found the story she’d written in English class, entitled “Diarmuid and His Selkie”, inspired by the story I told her.

“This is for you,” she’d said shyly, her cheeks tinging pink.

I ran my fingers over her neat, slanted writing.

Ava would want me to throw all these reminders of Saoirse away. But how could I when Saoirse was weaved into my life.

I glanced up. Ava was too busy on the phone to pay me any attention. I folded the slips of paper and slid them into the bottom of the suitcase, hiding them among my things.

Finally, we were all packed and ready to go. The moving van had been loaded and was already on its way to Limerick.

I locked up the house for the last time and pushed the keys through the mailbox, turning slowly, expecting a certain blonde-haired figure to appear behind me.

But she didn’t.

My heart felt gouged out. My mind clawed onto scraps of the last time Saoirse and I had been happy together. Her squealing as I raced us down the aisle on the trolley. Her tiny hip bumping up against mine. Her laughter as I dumped foam on top of her sweet head.

I’d never see her again.

God, was I really doing this?

Was I really leaving without a trace?

“What the hell are you just standing there for?” Ava yelled from my truck. All my responsibilities slammed into me.

I had to leave.

I had a family to take care of.

I’d only keep hurting Saoirse if I stayed.

“It should have been you. I should have given my virginity to you.”

I winced at the memory before shoving it away. The best thing I could do for her was to leave her alone. To let her get over me. To let her grow up.

I forced myself into the truck, slamming the door behind me, trying to ignore the fact that the wrong woman was sitting in my passenger seat. I turned the truck on and the radio blared to life, the familiar twangs of The Dubliners filling the cab.

Saoirse’s favourite band.

Her favourite song.

She was everywhere. Even when she was gone.

“What is this shit?” Ava turned the radio knob, cutting off the music, changing it to that pop channel she liked. I almost yelled at her for it. I stopped myself before a word left my mouth.

I had to get used to pop now. Pop was my life.

On the way out of town, we passed the café where Saoirse and I had breakfast every morning. I saw us in that booth near the window, laughing, talking, teasing each other. I saw her sitting there as clear as the road in front of me.

Then I blinked and the image was gone, replaced by an elderly couple sitting in the booth.

I forced myself to focus back on the road. With every beat of my heart the sinking feeling grew.

Turn back.

Turn back.

You’re making a mistake.

But I couldn’t.

There was an even smaller soul growing inside of Ava’s stomach who needed me even more than Saoirse did. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. It didn’t make it any easier. Or any less painful.

I could not be like my father.

I would not be like my father.

I had a responsibility. I had to do what was right, even if it killed me.

Perhaps there was a part of me that was terrified of what might happen if I stayed. If I chose Saoirse over Ava.

“I love you, Diarmuid.”

I swallowed hard.

I could never love her like that. Not now. She was a child.

But she wouldn’t always be.

And what could be in the future for Saoirse and me…it loomed so fierce and large that it threatened to consume me.

Snatches of my mother’s voice and the scent of roses washed over me. Before the black hole of her loss sucked any happiness away.

I didn’t know if I could survive loving someone that much again.

So I drove away from my soul family for the sake of another.