A few dried petals discolored over time. No longer the deep crimson red that was but rather a purple-brown shade. Despite the loss of color they still smelt as fresh and fragrant as the day he had bought and delivered them at her doorstep. It was all that was left of her. These old petals from a time before and various trinkets and mementos that he had given and that she had kept. They were forgotten and ignored now, unwanted by her. She had no need for them now. She was gone to a better place. And now he was left with the memories.

Time had aged Pacey Witter. He knew that. His hair was now gray, his skin was wrinkled and he couldn’t see without his faithful glasses. There were aches and pains that wracked his body and every winter his left side seemed numb and sore. Yet one thing had not left Pacey J Witter and that was his thoughts and memories of her. She was still as vivid and young in his mind. She was still the young woman he had loved. Tall, stubborn, smart, fiery with a cascade of long brown hair and a sparkle in her eye. He could see that trademark crooked smile of hers.

Pacey could see her, ten years old, running about screaming as he chased her and pulled her pigtails. He could see her splashing and playing about in the creek, a bikini covering her developing thirteen year old body. He could see her eyes filled with fire as she bantered and sparred with him. Pacey could see her at seventeen, on True Love, with only love and adoration in her eyes. She had never looked more free, more beautiful. Next Pacey saw her at nineteen as they lay entwined in a bed after a night of passionate lovemaking. Her limbs were languid, her skin soft and there that cat-like smile of contentment on her face.

The beauty of love. The newness of love. True love.

He remembered the night he delivered the roses. How he had come in his oldest jeans and one of his ridiculous looking Hawaiian shirts that she always complained about, with the bouquet of flowers and confessed his love. Confessed his love in a simple but romantic way – not because they had had a fight, not because it was their anniversary but simply because he loved her and he had wanted to tell her.

These petals were the only thing left of those days.

There were other memories in his head. Memories that did not consist of her. Images of Dawson Leery’s house. A house that no longer existed. It had been demolished and a new, modern building of apartments had been built instead. There were memories of Capeside but the Capeside Pacey remembered had changed. There were shopping malls everywhere, various apartment buildings and the idyllic small town feel was gone. Instead it was largely urbanized and modern.

A pang of regret and affection course through Pacey’s body. There was a time when Pacey had been determined to leave Capeside, hating the constrictions of the small town. Now he missed it.

Other memories, not just of places but now people, resurfaced. Dawson Leery. Jennifer Lindley. Andie and Jack McPhee. Then there was Paul, a close buddy from college and Sam, an old dear friend from work. Memories of his family also filled Pacey’s mind - his dad, his mother and his siblings. Memories of Doug Witter and Gretchen Witter now known as Gretchen McBride. There were even memories of Chris Wolfe, Cliff Elliott, Abby Morgan and Matt Caulfield. Dear old friends. Some of them enemies but they had all contributed to Pacey’s life. All had somehow given Pacey’s life meaning. He could never forget them.

And then there were the lovers. Pacey could still envision Tamara Jacobs – the first woman he had slept with. Pacey could see in his mind the blonde beauty of cheerleader Kristy Livingstone. Then there was of course Andie McPhee, Pacey’s first love. Images of Jen Lindley, before she became Jennifer Carter, when they had attempted a sex between friends arrangement and then later onwards in life their brief fling consisting of sex to ease their pain. And of course there was the vast variety of women Pacey had slept with being the consummate bachelor. Sophie. Tina. Tara. RaeAnne. Asha. He knew there were several Kates. And Pacey was pretty sure there was a Cyndi. There were red heads and women who were too old, relative to Pacey’s age. There were too many women to remember and yet he still cared about them, in his own way. Sometimes Pacey would stop and think about them once in a while. And they were nice memories. Memories that Pacey could hold on and cherish. He had known the touch of many women all over the years. Women of different nationality, across the globe. Women of different shapes and sizes each beautiful and each who had given them a little of themselves during the time he had known them. Sometimes they were friends as well as lovers like Jen. Sometimes they had given him confidence and inspiration like Andie. Sometimes they gave him guidance and direction like Lori. Sometimes it was simply about sex and pleasure like it had been with Cyndi. Sometimes it was about sharing warmth and the human touch like Khaleyla had done. Many women. And he remembered each and every one.

Yet amongst all these memories was one person, one memory that stood out. An awkward young girl, too tall, who had grown to be sophisticated, elegant and who had captured Pacey’s heart. Joey Potter. She was always there. And while the other memories were important and dear to Pacey in his life he had never loved anything more than Joey. The girl who understood his pain, who had grown up with him, who loved and saw him for he was.

There were only the petals left of Joey Potter and Pacey Witter. A few photos, a ring he had given her, their Marine Biology project about snails, some sketches and paintings. Trinkets of what was. He had envisioned forever with Joey. Pacey never thought they would say goodbye. An eternity together and beyond. And now all he had were the memories.

Kneeling down on the ground he gently placed the box of memories together. He was returning them to her. They belonged to her. They belonged to them – Joey Potter and Pacey Witter. The two young people who hated one another and loved one another.

Pacey wasn’t that young man anymore and yet in his life inspite of the various Pacey Witter that had taken form and character each of them had always loved Joey Potter in some way. She was the one person he still loved. Even if she no longer knew it.

There was no longer a forever. Not for them. Not in this reality. Neither of them had screwed up. It was just that things had changed. They still loved one another but they could no longer be together. They loved one another but remaining together they were hurting one another. His memory failed him here. Pacey couldn’t quite remember how everything had changed. An awkward silence had slowly grown between them. And if there wasn’t silence there were hurtful words with an edge that didn’t accompany their usual banter. They both felt constricted and restrained by one another. They both felt the need to explore, to see what was out there. His eyes strayed and so did hers. They had cried a little. Professed their love. But both of them had needed to experience a life without the other.

Somehow that life continued. Joey Potter moved away and became a successful artist. She married and had two adorable children. Pacey had attended the wedding. In fact he distinctly remembered one of the bridesmaids…Jem. They had crept into the hotel’s ladies room and engaged in a quickie. It had been nice. It had been what Pacey needed to fill the pang in his heart as he watched Joey promise her life to another man. Part of him had wanted to cry when she turned to look at him, their eyes locking for the briefest of moments, while she said “I do”. For a moment there it had been the two until the moment was broken and Pacey realized he was on the wrong part of the church. He remembered afterwards talking to Jem and she seemed to understand instinctively that his heart was shattering. Her heart has just been shattered by some asshole.

Later onwards Pacey did marry. A lovely wife whom he had loved dearly. There had been no children but that didn’t change Pacey’s affection. She had passed away some years ago.

And yet now as Pacey stood, in the clear blue sky, the grass green with the smell of fresh flowers below him, he knew that of all the women in his life, all the friends and families it was Joey Potter he had loved more.

“Hey Potter. How you doing? I miss you. I miss your smile. The way you laugh. I miss the way you used to bite your lower lip when you were nervous. I miss talking to you. I miss you.”

There was no reply to his speech but Pacey wasn’t really expecting one.

“So how are you? How are things? Tell me honestly. How’s Bess and Bodie? Alex misses them heaps as does he miss you. Dawson’s getting on. Dare I say it…I think he’s become another Mr Brooks. Jen’s excited. She’s become the grandmother of five a few days ago. And your kids miss you. Which reminds me of your own grandmother duties. Little Lillian. Three years old. She’s absolutely gorgeous Jo. She looks exactly like you. You would have spoilt her rotten given the chance. Oh and Jack’s taking up painting again. Pretty amazing huh? I know I told you that Andie passed away a few months ago. Jack never got over it. I don’t think I have either. Too many old friends lost you know?”

He paused, his eyes seeing something invisible and unknown to the rest of the world.

“You’re beautiful Jo. Just as beautiful as I remember. I still love you. Funny huh….how we needed time apart. I think forty-three years is long enough. Don’t you agree? I thought you would. So we didn’t get it right this time round. Maybe next time. Which reminds me. I found all this stuff when I went to visit your kids. They gave it to me. I never realized you kept all this stuff. I thought I’d return them to you. I know how much they mean to you. You know, my whole life I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone as much as I love you.”

There were tears now in his eyes.

“I should go now. Bye Potter. See you in the next life. We’ll get it right then.”

He walked away. His steps were slow and labored and were aided by the use of a walking stick. There was a car waiting a thirty-year old man, the male image of Joey jumped up and opened the door for Pacey. Pacey’s carefully seated himself and buckled up his seatbelt. The car drove away.

In the wind the petals danced. Photos of a young Joey Potter move on the ground. A ring lay on the ground.

Trinkets of the past next to a gray headstone.

Josephine Lillian Potter.
Beloved wife, mother, friend and lover.
Until we meet again.