credit to my friend on deviantart

Ten years ago

We were both fifteen. Teenagers. Too old to be called children, and barely old enough to be called teens. Too old to be taken care of, but too young to get many freedoms. Lost, reckless and confused, much like the majority of our age group. Except for one tiny difference: we were being held in a school for emotionally unstable teens.

Neither of us thought there was anything wrong with ourselves, but apparently the rest of the world disagreed. We were both there for the same reason, which was cutting and repeated suicide attempts. Nothing some special school could fix; just a bit of comforting and care. Something neither of us ever felt much of during our childhoods.

I first laid eyes on you at the front office on the first day, when I was checking in. I can remember freezing when you first walked in the door. Your dirty blonde hair hanging slanted over your eyes, with the black roots showing slightly where it was buzzed in the back. Your too-pale skin greatly contrasted the dark colors of the clothing you adorned, your black Misfits hoodie concealing your stick-thin body and nearly swallowing you whole. I thought you were absolutely gorgeous.

Nine years and 5 months ago

I’d finally gotten you alone after pretty much stalking you for half of the school year. The air was nice and chilly, and we sat outside at the edge of the school grounds, shaded by a tall oak tree.

I was trying not to completely fuck up, just making small talk as we blew white puffs of breath into the cold air. I was panicking on the inside, finally getting you where I wanted and then chickening out. The freezing wind stung my face like needles, and I was on the verge of tears as my frustration with myself grew.

Just as I was about to run back inside, you put your hand on my cheek and turned my head to face you. I met your radiant blue eyes, sparkling in the dim light the cloudy sky cast through the tree branches. I started shivering uncontrollably, and you put another warm hand on my other cheek before leaning in.

You paused when our lips were barely a millimeter from each other, taking a deep breath and gently pressing your cold, chapped lips to my own. I melted instantly, too shocked by what happened to respond. We kissed for several minutes until free period ended, and I was your boyfriend by the end of the day.

Eight years ago

My dad died that day. He was in a car crash. I didn’t come to school, and I didn’t answer you any of the times you called me. I felt like dying myself, so that’s exactly what I intended to have happen.

I swallowed a whole bottle of my mom’s pills without even knowing what kind they were. You must have been worried enough to check on me because your panicked, tear-streaked face was the last thing I saw before I collapsed in a dizzy heap.

I came to a few minutes later, with both you and my mom hovering over me. Your eyes were red and bloodshot, but you were trying your best to stay strong. For me. It was in that moment that I realized how much you must’ve cared about me, and I almost broke down crying then and there.

You helped my mom clean me up and she let you spend the night. We both slept in my bed, and you were holding me the whole time. It was that night, at about 1:36 am, that I told you I loved you. I was almost in tears again when you replied with, “I love you too.”

Seven years ago

We had just graduated a week prior, and you were telling me you’d been accepted into art college. I knew how much you had wanted this, so I tried my best to be happy for you, but I had no idea how I was going to last four years without you. Sure, you would be home to visit on holidays, but it just wouldn’t be the same.

You kept asking me if I was alright and I finally confessed, and you told me how much you were going to miss me too. We kissed for what seemed like hours, with you gently caressing my face and cradling me in your arms like an infant.

We fucked for the first time that night, but that’s not what you liked to call it. You told me “fucking” sounded too reckless, something you would do with someone you didn’t even care about just for the pleasure. No, you told me. We were making love. You said that was when two people gave themselves to each other completely, something you could really only do with someone you loved more than life itself. Those words alone were enough to melt my heart.

Three years ago

You’d just come back from college to live with me in my apartment, and I was thrilled. You didn’t get many chances to come home to visit, since the art college you were attending was a few hours away, but now you were back for good. My apartment was never the most impressive space in the world, but you brought a new sort of life into it that actually made me enjoy living there.

Two years ago

We had been living together for about a year, and I could have sworn nothing could get any better. We’d bought our own house out in the woods, so everything was quiet and peaceful all the time. Still, simply waking up to your beautiful face every morning was good enough for me.

I had just gotten home from a last-minute grocery run, preparing for a snowstorm that was supposed to hit us later. I was freezing and I needed you to warm me up, except that you were no where to be seen. I frantically searched the entire house, my mind coming up with horrid explanations for your absence.

I finally found you sitting on our bed, cross-legged and fully clothed. You told me not to move as soon as I stepped in the doorway, and I was about to ask for an explanation when you hopped off the bed and walked nervously over to where I was standing. You got down on one knee and took my hand, handling it delicately as if it were made of glass. My heart stopped in my chest as you pulled out a silver ring from your back pocket and asked me to marry you.

I burst into tears and screamed “yes,” as you stood up and wrapped me in a crushing hug. I sobbed into your shoulder and both of us were laughing giddily, like a pair of children. We were married two weeks later, and I couldn’t have been happier.

One year ago

You were diagnosed with cancer.

I was stunned when I found out, and I nearly blacked out when we were informed that you’d actually had it for a while now and the damage done was beyond repair. Even though they never said it, sliding their way around it as if trying to escape the inevitable, I knew what all this meant. You were going to die.

It took you hours to calm me down. I was crying and screaming for what seemed like forever, and once again I ended up in your arms with you whispering softly into my ear. You would tell me everything was going to be okay, and that you would be fine. At the time, I actually believed you.

24 hours ago

You went into a coma.

You had been doing find since you had been diagnosed, until then. We were driving back from the grocery store when you passed out in the passenger seat, and I nearly crashed the car. I drove you to the hospital and you were put in the ICU, and they wouldn’t let me in.

Ten hours ago

They let me in. I was the only person there, so I got you all to myself. I sat down right beside your hospital bed and rubbed up and down your arm as comfortingly as I could, just like you would do for me. I whimpered and cried, nuzzling my face against yours and listening to the beeping of the heart monitor. I put my hand over your heart and lightly kissed the spot, silently willing it to keep beating.

One hour ago

I had my arm draped across your chest, rubbing your skin soothingly when I noticed the beeping from the heart monitor begin to slow. I started to panic, tears springing to my eyes as the beeps continued to drop in speed. I leaned down to kiss you one last time before the beeping turned to a steady, monotone droning. You were gone.

Thirty minutes ago

I was dragged kicking, screaming and sobbing out of the hospital. My own heart shattered the moment yours stopped forever, and my vision was clouded with black fuzzy spots and blurred by tears. Everything sounded like underwater, and my motions seemed slow and lagging. I was devastated.

Ten minutes ago

I finally made it home. Nearly blinded by tears and dizziness, I ran up the stairs in search of something I was desperate to find.

One minute ago

Finally, I found your .45 pistol. You never used it, but you told me it was good to have for defense purposes and whatnot. I was so glad to have listened to you. I found a box of bullets and inserted just one, since that’s all I would be needing.

Ten seconds ago

I held the pistol to my head and began counting down. Ten. I sucked in a deep breath. Nine. Eight. A tear rolled down my cheek. Seven, six, five. I felt my hand shaking.

Four.

Three.

Two. I squeezed my eyes shut…

One.

Hello, love.