Jen's Journal

He took her items out of his backpack, making sure they were all still there: a copy of The Paris Wife by Paula Mclain, a ticket of The Neighbourhood concert, five heart-shaped bookmarks. He found those everywhere, this is probably not the last of them. Finally, there was a small purple notebook. Gertrude never went anywhere without a little notebook. The one in his hand was filled with promises they secretly made together. 1. Take Care of Each Other. 2.  If one of them died, the other had to finish all the stories they started. 3. Keep the affair between the two of them. These, and many more promises filled this tiny little book. 

His heart felt heavy like something was holding on to it with both hands and hanging off of it. He felt sick to his stomach. It’s not too late, a voice whispered. Yes, it is. I’ve ruined everything, another voice said. He listened to the latter because he can barely look at himself in the mirror without the need to vomit. He abandoned the person that loved him for who he was, and never once judged him for anything he did. He opened up his phone, thinking maybe it was time to reach out to her, to let her know he was alive and okay. He notices he hasn’t opened these messages in months. He scrolled through them, smiling each time he read one, and remembered how things used to be. His greatest mistake was making promises with someone who was spoken for. He wouldn’t have been able to keep them, but he made them anyway. He thought about this as he went back to the very first message.

{November 12}

Gertrude: Hey Henry, if it’s okay with you can I go with you to Denver next week? 

Henry: Sure! We can talk logistics at your boyfriend’s birthday party tonight but I don’t think there should be an issue with it.

Gertrude: Okay thanks! You just have to promise me you won’t leave me there because I freak out just thinking about it.

Henry: Gertrude, I swear I would never leave you behind.

He did leave her behind, eventually. There’s an ache in his chest when he thinks about how this is how it all began. Gertrude needed a ride to her parent’s home for thanksgiving and Henry was able to take her. They spent eight hours talking in a small red car, and he remembered he never wanted the conversation to end. Before he keeps reading, He makes himself some coffee to make it through the day. He liked it black, with only one spoonful of sugar to give it taste. Once the coffee was made, He grabs his phone and starts reading where he left off.

{January 6}

Henry: Things are dissolving here and I was wondering if you were still up and about? I know it’s getting late though. 

Gertrude: I’m going to bed. 

Henry: That’s absolutely fine, it is getting quite late 🙂

*****

He felt moisture in his eyes and reached up to catch a falling tear. He missed her. More than language could articulate. More than he would ever admit. Looking back now, he couldn’t tell who started what. He kept scrolling, his eyes were transfixed on the words on the screen and he couldn’t look away. 

{January 11}

Gertrude: You remember when I said I wanted to write a story about you? I thought about what I wanted it to be! Here’s the plot: the character based on you (let’s call him Riley) has a really good friend that turns into more and then she dies when they’re teens. Then Riley becomes really serious but meets some wholesome friends and he gets silly again. That’s all I got so far. Let me know if it’s a story that already exists.

*****

That’s right, he chuckles to himself. She wanted to write a story about him. He worked at a publishing house as an editor, and she was a timid writer that had potential, but no encouragement. Until Henry came into her life, no one knew about the scribbles Gertrude thought were just a pass time. He encouraged her to write, and she convinced him that he was worth something. He thought it was silly that anyone could ever find him important enough to write a story about him. He was so used to always living in the shadows. Not with her. With Gertrude he was the center of attention, in fact, he got so overwhelmed with the attention sometimes that it scared him. 

Regardless, Gertrude had this charm about her where she made people do things and if they didn’t they would feel terrible because no one could stand to upset her. Although the more Henry thought about it the more it felt like she manipulated him. Maybe she wasn’t what people made her out to be. However, It seemed to Henry that people wanted to be manipulated by her. Whatever their intentions were, anyone who meets Gertrude regrets meeting her when they find out she’s a writer.

They should know that if a writer falls in love with someone they will never die. They’ll live forever in the writers’ minds and pages. This scared Henry more than anything else in the world. He couldn’t handle someone loving him that much, he didn’t think he deserved it. Not only that, Gertrude’s boyfriend had more power than he did. If he ever found out about their affair, his career would be over. 

Another message was a picture of Gertrude and Henry on his birthday. He remembers Gertrude went to the store and bought 26 inflatable balloons for every year he’s been alive. She planned the whole night. She spent 200 dollars on his birthday party and he still couldn’t get it through his “intelligent” head that she liked him, maybe even loved him. He couldn’t do anything about it because if he ever hurt that girl it would be the worst thing he ever did. So he left instead. 

Just like the man before, and the man after him will. They’ll take one look at Gertrude and think she was sweet, demure, and ditsy in a cute way. They would talk to her, make her smile, make her laugh. They felt proud when they made her laugh so hard she tilted her head back and held onto her stomach from the pain of laughing. 

Men liked to call her beautiful because they thought that was the most original compliment she ever got. They like to annoy her, make her angry, make her cry; that was the worst one. Men would wonder why Gertrude wasn’t able to keep it together. It would annoy them, but then they felt bad for bringing tears to her small glossy eyes. The sparkle had left them when she got with Ben. She may not love him, but at least he’s the only man who ever stayed. 

Although, Henry didn’t think staying was the same as loving her. They share a bed every night, they have three children together, but when was the last time they talked? Talked about something that meant something, the way Gertrude and Henry talked about the world sometimes? It’s easy to stay with someone you don’t love, after a while, it just becomes a habit and even the thought of things changing is difficult to grasp.

He finished up his coffee, grabbed the backpack, and leaves. Getting a new phone and giving her things back was the last thing he had to do to put all this behind him. Once he does, Gertrude will only be a memory. Half an hour later he got in his car again and impulsively went onto the highway. He felt exhilarated. After nearly a year since he left her, he finally feels free. He drove far, not really thinking of where he was going, just enjoying the warm Spring air. 

A few hours later, when he became too exhausted to keep driving he stopped by a campsite. He drove past the city and all that surrounded him now were newly green trees and firewood leftover from people that have camped here recently. He’s been driving so long that the sun was now low on the western horizon. 

He set his things down in the car and got out. He made sure to lock his car and began walking around. There’s something to be said about clearing one’s head in the middle of nowhere. What is it someone said once? That being in nature can help you connect to the earth so people see the bigger picture? Or something about being alone with one’s thoughts makes people appreciate the little things? He couldn’t remember exactly where he heard these sayings. Gertrude was the reader, the one who remembered exactly who said what. If she didn’t know, she was the only one who cared enough to look up the origins of phrases.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. It’s been nearly a year since he left everything behind. He was currently alone in the middle of nowhere, yet still, he could not stop thinking about her. What does this mean? Henry realized he never really thought about these things. Now he was completely alone with himself and his thoughts, and the questions kept piling up in his head. 

The reason he left everything behind was that he was falling in love with Gertrude, and he realized later that she felt the same way. Now he wondered if it was better to be alone than to be loved by someone like Gertrude. 

He remembered Gertrude telling him once that people can never truly be alone with themselves. Even if they are, they will read other people’s words. They’ll listen to other people’s music. They’ll watch other people’s movies. In this way, everyone is influenced by at least a few people in their lives. This made him contemplate why he was doing this. Maybe Gertrude did love him so much it scared him away but is that really the worst thing that could happen? Is it really so scary to love someone and have them love you back? 

The sun had gone down in the time Henry was pondering all of this. It became quite cold, and he made his way back to his car. He had a choice now. He could continue to run and never see Gertrude again, or he could be brave and go back to her to let her know how he truly feels. He drove back to the city with the music blasting as he tried to make up his mind. A random song came on the radio just then. It was one from the playlist he and Gertrude made on their trip to Denver all those years ago. She insisted on making a playlist for the trip that consisted of songs they both liked. He couldn’t even tell what the song was, he just smiled because it was one Gertrude played on repeat sometimes. 

Before his mind knew what was happening, he was driving to Gertrude’s house. Maybe it was the messages that made him nostalgic or Gertrude’s favorite song randomly coming on. Whatever it was, he knew he had to see her again. If only one last time. To tell her that he’s okay and that the reason he left was that he was afraid of how deeply she was able to love. 

He drove all night and was surprised when he saw a few rays of sun peeking out. He didn’t stop once for anything. Getting to her was the only thing that mattered. When he finally made it to their house, he breathed out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure this was the best idea, but he knew he had to tell her. He had to see her. 

He got out of his car and made sure to grab the backpack he packed the day before with her stuff. Nothing had changed much from outside. The house was still a pale blue color, There were still two rocking chairs on the porch, and the grass was as green as ever. He made his way to the front door, thinking of what he wanted to say to Gertrude first. 

When he rang the doorbell his heart started beating faster. Before he could change his mind again, the door opened and Ben stood there. His face had accumulated a few more wrinkles than he remembered, and he looked somber. It was as if he never smiled. There were a few more wrinkles in his eyes and he looked surprised to see Henry again. 

“Henry! It’s been so long! What brings you back here?” Ben asked, giving Henry a hug and inviting him in.

“Thought it was time for a visit. How are things around here?” Henry questioned, hoping Gertrude will come out at any second. 

Henry noticed a shift in Ben. He motioned for him to sit down on the couch, the way people do when they’re about to tell you bad news. It worried Henry, but he sat down anyway and held his breath. 

“Shortly after you left, Gertrude took her own life. No one knows why. She didn’t leave a note anywhere. No warning, no note, she was just gone. I’m glad you’re here, it’ll be a year soon and I’ll need a friend like you around. What do you say, will you be around a few more days?”  He sat there for minutes, taking in what Ben just said. No warning, no note. That’s exactly how he left her. Now she’s gone forever and she’ll never know how he felt about her. Ben kept talking, not noticing that Henry was frozen in his seat. He never knew what happened between them. Henry wondered if now was the right moment to tell him, or if what happened between them would remain between them. He kept thinking about this, as Ben offered him something to eat. Whatever he decided to do, he had to at least consider that he was here for a reason. It was up to him to decide what it was.