"Control Z"(Brenna) The clock on the wall in the entryway had stopped working the day Lucy left. It was as if it somehow knew that because Lucy was no longer here, time ceased to matter anymore. I stared at the clock, unblinking. It was bright yellow and square-shaped. I remember the day she brought it home. She had gone to a rummage sale down the road, and I can recall that I stubbornly refused to go with her. Now I wish I had.
I had gotten home a few hours ago to find a hastily written letter, stained with blotchy watermarks from heartbroken tears.
The letter had, unfortunately, confirmed one of the biggest fears I had. My beautiful Lucy just… left. I ruined everything. I messed it all up. And for what? A silly job that hardly mattered anymore? She’s gone now. Swept away by the wind of promising new adventures. New stories and memories and hopes and dreams. She always wanted those for us. But now she’s gone.
Of course, she had always been a free spirit, wanting to go and explore the world, never stopping to care about trivial things like money, food, or a house. But I knew that. Of course I did. I knew that from the moment I met her.
But now that she was gone, the only thing I shared with her was memories. Sad, lonely, heartbroken ones, that drifted aimlessly like wandering ghosts; not exactly there anymore, but not exactly gone.
I wish I could deceive myself with the idea that I had no idea why she left, or when it all started. But I know I can’t.
It began when she asked me to take a day off of work to go on a date. I had shaken my head at her, scolding her like a small child who didn’t know any better, and said, “Honey, I almost have that promotion! It’s right on the tips of my fingers, and with a little more effort I can grab it. Then we’ll have more money and nicer things! You want that right?”
She had stared at me with a somber expression, and then just sighed and said, “I guess so.” I can still remember the look on her face when she asked me to talk. Embarrassment engulfed my body like an angry, uncomfortable rash that just won’t go away. I remember how I had shaken my head and laughed at her, telling her I was a busy man who didn’t have time for trivial conversations.
I closed my eyes and slid down the wall, dragging my hands across my face. She was everything to me. I loved her and I wanted a good life with her, and she had decided to move on without me.
I picked up my phone and stared at the screen. Should I call her? Should I tell her how I feel and how I wish I could go back and do it all over again?
Wait. I can do it all over again. I sat there and stared straight ahead at the wall in front of me. The silence in the house was deafening. I took a deep breath, then spoke out loud, softly, and slowly. “Control Z.” The whole house seemed to lurch on its side, until suddenly I was sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast when she walked in.
The whole room seemed to light up, and I finally realized that rather than wanting a love that burst short and quick like a firework, I wanted a love that was soft and sweet like a warm summer breeze. “Hey, do you wanna take a day off of work and go on a date?”
“Yes.”
She stared at me, shocked, for a few moments, then came to her senses and whispered through a confused smile, “Ok.”
Before either of us knew it, we found ourselves standing on a soft sandy beach, facing each other. The salty sea breeze ruffled our hair, and the sweet perfume of blooming flowers mingled with the scent of sunscreen, tickled our noses.
I brushed a lock of Lucy’s soft brown hair behind her ear, and without her needing to ask, I started to explain everything. She stood and listened quietly, watching my eyes dance around the beach from nervousness. When I was done, Lucy only said five simple words.
“It’s going to be ok.”
I looked out at the waves lapping against the shore, and for some reason, I felt like I understood those waves. I understood that they persevered constantly, coming back to the shore again, and again, and again. I understood that Lucy was just like that, coming back to me again, and again, and again.
Two years later, I didn’t think I could be any happier. Lucy encouraged me to quit my job and buy a bookstore with her. A while ago I wouldn’t have done it, but the person I was a while ago is very different from the person I am now.
And as I sat there in a big comfy armchair, in my little cozy bookstore, looking up from my computer screen from time to time to see how my wonderful wife was doing with the customers, I made a promise to myself.
Never again, would I lose not only myself, but my wife at the same time. Never again, would I lose sight of the things that mattered most. Never again, would I forget how to live. “Never again,” I whispered, “Never again.”

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