Losing Me Finding You Read online

  Losing Me

  Finding You

  By Natalie Ward

  Published by Natalie Ward

  This book is also available in print at selected online retailers.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9874159-3-6

  Copyright 2014 Natalie Ward

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect for this is appreciated.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover created by Regina Wamba at Mae I Design.

  For more information please come and visit me at http://www.natalieward.com.au

  Other books by Natalie Ward

  I Love You to Death

  Stubborn Love

  I Love You, Always

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  29th February 1980

  29th February 1984

  29th February 1988

  29th February 1992

  29th February 1996

  29th February 2000

  29th February 2004

  29th February 2008

  29th February 2012

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  I hold it true, whate’er befall;

  I feel it, when I sorrow most;

  ‘Tis better to have loved and lost

  Than never to have loved at all.

  Alfred Lord Tennyson

  i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

  my heart) i am never without it (anywhere

  i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

  by only me is your doing, my darling)

  i fear

  no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

  no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

  and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

  and whatever a sun will always sing is you

  here is the deepest secret nobody knows

  (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

  and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

  higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

  and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

  i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

  e.e. cummings

  29th February

  The 29th of February, the day I was born.

  When I wake up on this day, I’m in a different city, with a different life and no memory of the lives I had before this one. Today is the tenth time this has happened to me. The tenth time I’ve had to figure out where the hell I am. The tenth time I’ve had to try and work out who the hell I am. This is the tenth alteration of the person I am. Each of us has had different lives, different backgrounds and different families. But there’s always been one constant.

  Him.

  He’s the reason I keep doing this. He’s the reason I spend four years searching. If I’m lucky, I’ll get the trigger and find him quickly and we can spend those four years together before I disappear again. If I’m not, we might get a year, a month, or even just a day. Once we got nothing, but that was a choice.

  And every time it happens, he patiently waits for me. He says that every time I come back to him, it’s like falling in love with me all over again. I say that every time I come back, I fall even more in love with him than before.

  It scares me that one day I won't be able to find him at all, because when that day comes, I'm not sure I'll want to keep going. He is my strength, my protector, my one and only constant.

  I love him.

  He loves me.

  But every four years, I lose myself.

  And every four years, I have to find him.

  This is our story.

  29th February 1980

  Four years old

  The sun shines into my room and today I turn four years old.

  This is the first time I have woken up and remembered my name.

  Eva.

  Well, Evie sounds better right now.

  “Hi,” the boy says to me.

  “Hello,” I answer back.

  “What’s your name?”

  I push up on my toes as I get to say it out loud for the first time. “Evie Roberts.”

  The boy looks back at me, but he doesn’t move. Even though I’m on my toes, he’s still taller than me. He looks strong and fierce, but I’m not afraid of him. He looks like he could protect me and for some reason, right now, he’s acting like he would.

  “Hi, Evie Roberts,” he says and straightaway, I like the way my name sounds when he says it. It sounds better than when I say it; even though today is the first time either of us is saying it.

  “Who are you?” I ask him.

  “Ben,” he answers. “Ben Foster.”

  “Hi, Ben Foster,” I say, smiling at him. He has nice eyes, this boy.

  He smiles back at me and somehow, something changes. A memory returns, or forms, I don’t quite know yet.

  Well, this is interesting.

  15th September 1981

  Five years old

  “Want me to walk you to school?” Ben Foster says to me as I walk out of the front door and find him waiting on the path in front of my house.

  “How do you know we go to the same school?” I ask him, fiddling with my new school bag.

  Ben smiles at me and I like it, it’s like warm sunshine. “My mum told me you were starting there today. I’ll walk you.”

  “My mum’s going to,” I say, jumping down the front steps as our front door re-opens and my mum, a woman who once upon a time I didn’t recognise, walks out.

  “Oh, hi, Ben,” she says to him.

  “Hi, Mrs Roberts,” Ben answers back and I wonder if he finds her as nice as I do.

  “Are you on your way to school?” my mum asks Ben.

  Ben smiles at her and she smiles back. I watch them both.

  “Yep, I am. I thought I’d walk Evie, if that’s okay?”

  My mum is still smiling and I can’t help but wonder what she’s thinking. “How old are you, Ben?” she asks him.

  I’ve been wanting to know that too. I figured he was older than me, not just because he’s taller. All boys are taller; it’s just how it works. But more because of the way he acts. He’s confident, sure, and he knows his way around the neighbourhood.

  When I first met him, he took me around our street. Not far, just up and down it, but he pointed out every single one of our neighbours. Told me something about each of them, who to avoid, who had the scary dog, who would give you a sweets at Halloween. He knew them all and they all knew him.

  “I’m six, I’ll be seven in November, Mrs Roberts,” he says. “I’m nearly two years older than Evie.”

  I can’t help but smile.

  My mum can’t either and I’m pretty sure, like me, she’s completely fallen under Ben’s spell now. It’s really not surprising; Ben Foster is kinda magical like that.

  I glance at her, standing on the front step, looking first at Ben and then at our school, which is only at the end of the street. You can see it from our house. Even my mum doesn’t need to walk me; she could stand at the front door and watch me the whole way, from our gate to the school gate. But I get the feeling she’s doing this for Ben. She’s acting as though this is a big deal when really, it isn’t. But she’s doing this because Ben is. Because Ben’s acting like it’s the most important thing he’s ever going to do. />
  When I turn to look at him, I can see the serious look on his face. I have to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing now. When I turn to face my mum again, I see she’s trying to do the same thing. It makes me love her.

  “And you’ll keep an eye on her?” my mum asks, trying not to laugh. She’s acting like a kid now and it’s funny. “Because Evie’s only five, she’s a lot younger than you.”

  I’m not really, I want to say, but I don’t because Ben doesn’t give me a chance.

  “I promise to look after her,” he suddenly says with the utmost sincerity.

  “You swear?” my mum asks and she’s not even bothering to hide her laughter now.

  But I’m not smiling anymore, because Ben is looking right at me now. He’s looking at me as he says his next words and even though they are meant for my mum, I feel like he’s speaking directly to me. Only to me.

  “I promise I will always look after her.”

  And somehow, I know he always will.

  12th August 1982

  Six years old

  “Evie, what’s wrong?”

  I’m sitting under the tree in our front yard on the verge of crying. It’s stupid and I know it, but I can’t help it.

  “Evie?” he says, his voice quiet as he sits down beside me.

  I know who it is before I even look up. And when I finally do, I can see the worry on his face. I try smiling at him, but I don’t know if it works.

  “My cat,” I eventually say, and even I can hear how pathetic I sound.

  “Your cat?” Ben asks.

  I nod, the tears starting to fall now. I duck my head, embarrassed, but Ben reaches out with his hand and tilts my face up so he can look at me. His face is blurry but I can still see his concern. With his fingers under my chin, he gently brushes my first tears away with his thumb. It makes my cheeks warm.

  “My cat,” I confirm, swallowing hard.

  “What about him?” Ben asks. “Is he lost?” I shake my head. I know exactly where he is; I just can’t get to him. “Not lost,” Ben says. “So what’s wrong?”

  I feel stupid for saying it, but I do anyway. “He’s stuck up the tree,” I say, my fingers pointing to the branches above me. “And he won’t come down.”

  My cat meows right on cue, as if to let me know, just in case there was some confusion over where he was exactly.

  “Oh, I see,” Ben says, smiling now.

  Then he tucks some of my hair behind my ear before standing up. I watch as he smiles at me again and rolls up his sleeves. Then he glances up the tree, as if he’s working out the best way to do this. He looks very determined and it’s kinda cute, if I was noticing that. Ben glances back at me, flashes me another smile and gives me a wink that makes my heart flutter and then he’s off. He leverages his foot into the trunk near where I’m sitting and pulls himself up.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, standing up as he starts climbing the tree as though he does it every day. I wipe my butt with my hands, brushing away the dirt.

  Ben pauses, both his feet off the ground now, his hands clinging to branches high above. “I’m getting your cat, Evie,” he says, laughter in his voice as he starts climbing again.

  I can’t help but smile now, because somehow, I know he will.

  28th February 1984

  Seven years old

  “Happy birthday, Evie,” Ben says, handing me a small box wrapped in silver paper. This is the first party I’ve ever had for my birthday.

  I smile as I take it from his hands and gently shake it to see if I can work out what’s inside. “Thank you, Ben,” I say.

  Ben smiles back at me and for just a second, it feels like no one else exists as we stand smiling at each other at my front door. But then my mum ushers Ben inside and we join everyone else.

  “You’re the only boy,” I tell him, putting his present with the others. It’s the smallest one here, but I know that doesn’t mean anything. “I hope you don’t mind,” I say.

  Ben is still smiling at me and I don’t quite know what that means. “No, I don’t mind, Evie,” he says to me. “I’m here for you anyway.”

  Ben flops down beside me in the snow. It’s been falling heavily for several hours now and it’s already quite thick. We are making snow angels in my front yard. All of my other friends have gone home, but not Ben. He’s still here; he’s been here all day. I don’t ever want him to leave.

  “What do you think you’ll get for your birthday tomorrow, Evie?” he asks me. It was only when I was opening my birthday presents that Ben found out today isn’t actually my real birthday.

  A new life.

  The thought flashes quickly through my head, but I don’t know what it means or where it comes from, so I ignore it. Instead I answer, “I don’t know,” as I flap my arms and legs to make the angel.

  “I’ve got something else for you,” Ben says, moving his arms and legs at the same time.

  “You already gave me a present,” I tell him, smiling as my hand goes to the necklace I’m now wearing. When I opened Ben’s present earlier today, hidden inside the box was a beautiful silver necklace, a tiny silver ‘e’ hanging from the chain. It couldn’t be more perfect.

  “I know,” Ben says. “But I decided you should get another one for tomorrow. For your real birthday.”

  “You did?” I ask, wondering how he’s possibly gotten me something else when he’s only just found out that tomorrow is the day I was really born.

  “Yeah,” he says, rolling onto his side so he’s looking down at me. “I did.”

  “You don’t need to give me anything else,” I tell him, sitting up. My butt feels wet and I know I should go inside and get dry, but for some reason I don’t want to leave Ben.

  Something feels funny today, kind of off. I’m not quite sure how to describe it or even when I really noticed it, but it feels weird. It’s like when I’m watching a scary TV show and I know something really bad is coming. I want to turn away, but as nervous as I am, I can’t, and the only thing to do is to keep watching and wait for it to happen.

  I think I first noticed it when I was blowing out the candles on my cake. Ben was standing behind all of my friends, watching me, and when he smiled at me and took a step closer, it hit me. After that, when I started paying more attention, I noticed it more. How it got stronger as the day went on, but how it feels strongest of all when I’m around Ben. It almost feels like this is the last time I’m going to see him, as though after today, I’ll somehow lose him.

  The scary part is, I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know how to stop myself from feeling this way. I don’t want to lose him; he’s my friend. And I have no idea how I am supposed to find him again if I do. I don’t know what any of this means.

  “I know, but I want to,” he says, sitting up beside me. “And hey, it’s kinda lucky you get to be born on this day, isn’t it?” Ben is playing with the snow, and I imagine his butt is wet just like mine. I’m guessing his hands must be freezing too, because he isn’t wearing any gloves.

  “Lucky, why do you say that?” I ask.

  Ben stops and turns to face me. “Because you get to be born on a day that’s special. A day that doesn’t come around very often,” he says, his face serious. “Your birthday, Evie, has it’s very own time.”

  Right as Ben says those words, something happens. I’m no longer feeling cold, or distracted by this feeling, or scared of losing him. If anything, I’m feeling the complete opposite, as though this is something I should be paying attention to.

  I can see my breath, which is puffs of white air between us, but I can’t feel anything. Either my butt and my whole body are completely numb or Ben has made me forget about everything. Everything. Except for his words.

  “It’s extra time that no one else gets,” he says quietly. “And I think that’s pretty special.”

  I swallow, not sure what to say. “You do?” I stupidly ask.

  “Yep,” Ben says smiling as he suddenly dumps a huge snowball o
n my head.

  I squeal, the moment broken as I grab at the snow beneath my hands and try to fling as much of it as I can at Ben, who is now up and running towards the neighbour’s house. “Ben, come back here,” I yell, pushing wet strands of hair from my face.

  “You’ll have to catch me first, Evie Roberts,” he says, laughing as he keeps running.

  I get up and start running after him, knowing he’s not going that fast because that would be unfair. He’s letting me catch up with him even though I’m holding a snowball of my own now.

  “Come on, Evie,” he says laughing as he turns to face me, jogging backwards at the same time. “You gonna let me get away?”

  No, I’m not.

  I’m getting closer and as I watch him laughing at me, I pull back my arm, ready to launch my snowball right at his head. Just as I let go of it, watch as it arcs perfectly through the air in Ben’s direction, Ben hits the hedge that separates my front yard from the neighbour’s yard. Because he’s running backwards, he doesn’t see it and when it hits the back of his legs, Ben falls back over it, my snowball still flying towards him and going over the hedge too.

  I stop running, my breath heaving in great white puffs as I see Ben’s body falling over the hedge. Then, there’s nothing but silence. Scared, I run towards him, calling out his name as I hope that he’s not hurt.

  When I reach the hedge, I see Ben lying on the other side, flat on his back in the snow. His legs are still tangled in the bushes and he’s laughing so hard his body is shaking and he isn’t making any sound. My snowball has landed a direct hit, right on his head and his hair is now filled with snow. He must be soaking wet.

  “Are you alright?” I ask, climbing over the hedge to see if he is.

  He’s still laughing as he reaches out his arm. “Help me up, Evie,” he says, his words tangled in laughter.