Half of my soul
I’m sorry for not understanding.
I’ll tell you that I’m sorry three hundred times everyday if I could.
I hate that we argued and I hate the way I blamed you for my frustration. I was still so immature, I couldn’t understand your pain because I was so blinded by mine. Would you even forgive me if I could tell you I was sorry? I don’t think I could. I envy your patience.
Please listen to me.
Can you hear me right now?
Can you forgive me?
Wake up.
“Hey, wake up.”
“I’m awake.” He mumbled through hushed breaths.
“Okay then open your eyes and tell me if this looks good.” I demand more than ask, holding up my sketchbook to his face. “It’s for my portrait art project.”
“Did you draw me while I was sleeping?” He asks, looking up at me.
“Yes, but before you freak out, no one will see it besides my 50 year old professor.” I answer in an attempt to be reassuring because I know you still want to keep our relationship a secret.
“It’s good. It’s really good, I love it but do I really look like that?” He takes my sketchbook to hold it closer to his face.
“Why what’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, it’s just… I look very handsome sleeping.” He states smirking, still inspecting the sketch.
“You’re sick.” I shiver in disgust, snatching my sketchbook out of his hands.
__
“When are you going to stop telling your family that I’m your girlfriend and that my name is Gabriella?”
“I don’t know yet, I’m still just trying to figure out how to tell them.” He replied, not even looking up from his phone.
“I’m confused about what there is to figure out.” I say, frustrated.
“We’ve had this conversation before, you know how my parents are.”
“Yeah and I told you that if they don’t accept you then that’s their issue, not yours. You’re a grown man, it shouldn’t matter to them who you decide to be with.” I plead. “Can you at least look at me?” I pull his phone out of his hands and toss it across the bed. “Please listen to me.”
“I’m listening.” He tells me, meeting my eye contact.
“I don’t like that I can only see you when you’re sure your parents won’t find out.” I explain, grabbing his face with my hands.
“I know, I’m sorry.” His eyes fall shut.
“Then do something.”
“I’m trying.”
I sigh, dropping my head onto his shoulder. “I’m trying”. I believe you, but it’s getting hard. I’m getting impatient, I’m sad only seeing you when the sun is down when all I want to do is go out and eat breakfast with you. Would it be selfish to ask you to try harder?
__
“I’m here to see Chancellor Adams.”
“Hi Gabrielle. Doctor Park and his parents just left.” The receptionist tells me with a soft smile on her face.
“Okay, thank you.” I reply, forcing a smile back. It’s nine forty six, the sky is dark and stars are scattered across it.
Even after all of this, I’m still seeing you at night only. Even though outside it’s dark and the sun has set, my eyes take their time adjusting to the white color palette of the hospital. I pass through the halls of the hospital and make my way to your room for a quiet night that shouldn’t feel so alone.
I finally get to your door and stand in front of it before willing myself to grasp the cold metal handle. Once I do actually open the door, a woosh of the iconic sanitizer and sterilizer scent attacks my nose. Another one of those things I still can’t seem to get used to.
You’re just laying there once I’ve fully entered the room, still in the same position you’ve been in for months. It gives me the kind of feeling that physically makes my heart hurt. I suck in a big breath of air and let it out slowly to stabilize myself.
I grab the familiar chair by the arm and drag it to the side of the hospital bed. Today has been extra hard and the only thing I want to do is talk to you. I can still talk to you, even if I’m not getting the answer I want, or rather an answer at all. I sit down and rest my elbows on the bed, looking down at your pale unfamiliar face.
“Today was really hard.” I tell you despite knowing that it’ll be just me participating in this conversation. “My art professor still thinks that my art isn’t as up to par as it used to be.” I sigh.
I stay silent for a minute. I grab your hand and I’m reminded of how this cold hand used to feel so warm and calming in mine rather than so sad and lifeless. I let my head drop onto the bed and stay there for a bit before continuing by myself.
“I hope I’m not annoying you with my obnoxious daily updates as if my life is so hard. I’m being selfish, again.” I pause, “I’m sure after months of hearing the same things over and over again I’d probably get a little fed up.” I say, breathing out a short laugh. I’m so exhausted and my eyelids feel like they’re holding the weight of the world.
“I miss hearing your voice.” I tell him.
“Do you miss talking to me?” I ask before I’m unable to hold my eyes open any longer.
__
The tears rolling down my face show no avail as I wait outside his door and wait for him to answer my knocks. I can no longer tell if it’s tears or raindrops rolling down my face. Finally the lights inside flicker on and the knob of the door starts to jiggle.
“You didn’t tell me you were-” He cuts himself off and looks at me before going on. “What’s wrong?” He asks hurriedly, pulling me inside by my arm. “You’re soaking wet Gabe, and why is your lip bleeding?”
I try my best to hold in my sobs but it only does more damage than good. A sob rips its way out of my mouth as more tears pour out of my eyes. Soon I’m sobbing uncontrollably and shaking in the middle of his entry way as he stares while trying to think of what to do with me.
Suddenly he walks away and down the hall, making a right towards the bathroom. I try to steady my breathing, to be less embarrassing than I already am. He leaves the bathroom with a towel in his hand and approaches me steadily.
“Did you walk here?” He asks me as he wraps the towel around my shoulders. I only nod in response, sniffling quietly. “Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve come to get you.”
“I don’t know.” I say so quietly it could be confused for a whisper.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Well,” I attempt to begin retelling the recent events. “I was working on my art project.” I stop for a moment, recollecting my thoughts. I look up and he nods in understanding.
“And my mom just starts pounding on my door. I knew she was wasted but tonight she was crying. Well anyways,” I suck in some air, “She was banging on my door because I had it locked. She was yelling at me through the door and crying. I opened the door and she started screaming at me and throwing my own stuff at me. We started arguing for a while. After we stopped she started yelling at me, telling me to get out and that she hates me and doesn’t want to see my face so I left.”
I wipe the tear streaks from my face harshly and suddenly I’m overly aware about where I am. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here. I just-” He stops me by grabbing my face and wiping away my tears with his thumbs.
“I’m glad you came here.” He tells me reassuringly. “C’mon, I’m gonna get you dry clothes.”
__
“Did anyone tell you that my parents decided to cut Chance’s life support?” Bella, Chance’s sister, tells me.
“Wait what?” My stomach turns.
“Gabe, we can’t keep going with him like this, it’s too painful.” She tries to explain.
“So you guys are just gonna give up?” I question, anger starting to bubble inside of me.
“What would you do if you were in our position?”
“I’d give him a chance! He’s still alive!” I exclaim.
“I’m sorry Gabe.” Bella says sincerely, tears start to form in her eyes. She quickly wipes them away with shaky hands.
“Then when- when is… his last day?” As the words leave my mouth I start to feel nauseous and my head suddenly feels dizzy.
“December 14th, next Friday.” She informs me.
This time, I can’t even seem to form a coherent sentence, my brain wracks and wrestles for a thought but a million things are running through my head. Bella stands with me for a second before putting a hand on my shoulder before walking away sniffling.
I find the nearest wall and press my back against it to hold myself up. Soon I’m sitting on the hallway floor of this hospital as tears well up quickly in my eyes. I can feel my whole body start to shake as I’m consumed by this suffocating feeling.
__
“Gabey! Can you go get me a drink?” My best friend shouts over the blaring music.
“Can’t you go get it yourself?” Fake annoyance lace my words.
“Please?” She slurs, dragging out the word. Puh-lease. I roll my eyes before turning around towards the drinks. “Thank you!” She calls over the music.
I shuffle through the crowd, pushing past dozens of shoulders. I finally reach the drinks table and grab two cups. I look at my options for drinks and try to decide which I should choose. I grab the ladle and start scooping the cups with drinks.
“Nice choice.” An unknown voice comments from above me. I look up and immediately recognize who I’m looking at. “Sorry, I should introduce myself, I’m Chancellor Adams.” He introduces, but I’ll skip the formalities.
“I know who you are.” I reply, not bothering to look back up as I carry on pouring my drinks.
“Wow okay.” He chuckles.
“If you’ll excuse me.” I attempt to make an escape when quicker than sound, a girl trips on her heel and falls into me, causing both drinks to spill on me.
“I am SO sorry!” She shouts her apology over the deafening bass, she doesn’t ponder too long before running back in the crowd.
“Well, at least red is one hundred percent your color.” Chancellor slips in a snarky comment.
“Thanks, I especially love the way it looks when it’s staining my clothes.” I snap back.
“Feisty.” He says, putting a hand over his mouth jokingly.
I scoff.
“Let me help you.” His poor attempt at being a gentleman.
“No thank you.” I decline.
He sighs before grabbing me by my wrist and dragging me through the crowd. We’re walking for what feels like forever considering this house is practically a mansion.
He doesn’t even bother looking back as he pulls me across the house and up a flight of stairs to a random bedroom. The bedroom is surprisingly minimalistic, muted colors and a small amount of decor.
“You know this is slightly weird, right?” I note.
“Don’t get any exciting thoughts now, I’m getting you a new shirt.”
“From some random person’s closet?”
“This is my room.” He corrects me.
Huh? Is this his house?
“This is your room?”
“I live here.” He confirms my suspicion. “But hopefully not for much longer.” He disappears into his walk-in closet, leaving me with a new unanswered question.
“Oh.” I respond quietly to myself.
“Here, put this on.” He throws me a white button up shirt that’s almost identical to the one I’m wearing.
“Thanks.” I say, standing there awkwardly. The moment of silence carries out too long, making me physically uncomfortable.
“Hm? Oh, should I… turn around?” He asks me, quirking an eyebrow.
“It would be appreciated.”
“Sure.” He smiles before turning one eighty.
I quickly unbutton my own shirt and let it drop to the ground and attempt to put on the new shirt and button it even faster to end this awful awkward situation. Once I’m finished I sigh and pick my tarnished red stained shirt and throw it over my arm.
“Thanks, again.” I tell him and he turns back around.
“No problem,” He hesitates, “Sorry, you never told me your name.”
“Gabrielle.” I state.
“Well, Gabrielle, it appears that you missed a button.” He continues, walking towards me.
“Huh? Where?” My head snaps down, looking for the button I missed. I can feel warmth creeping up my neck and my cheeks starting to blush. I need to get out of here.
“Right…” He finds the button for me and smoothly buttons it without effort. “There.” He smiles at me and takes a step back. “You’re looking quite dapper Gabe.”
“Um-” I fumble.
“I’m flirting with you. God.” He cackles at me.
There’s absolutely no way I just heard that correctly. Flirting? Wait, Is he actually gay or is he just messing with me? He’s probably just drunk.
“Right.” I clear my throat. “I should head back to my friend, she’s probably waiting for me.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll make sure to return the shirt.”
“Keep it.”
I definitely need to get out of here.
__
I jolt awake suddenly and find myself inside of a hospital room. I look down when I feel his hand in both of mine. It almost feels warm, like it used to. My back aches from slouching in this chair. But something isn’t right, I look around me. It feels too bright in here. That’s when I’m met with a realization that causes me to hurriedly fish my phone out of my pocket to check the time.
8:34 a.m.
This is really bad. I have to leave. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep without setting an alarm first. I’m so stupid. Your parents could be here any second now, I know that because the receptionist told me they come to see you in the mornings. I race around the small room gathering all my belongings trying to be gone in time. I know that I’ve failed when I hear the door open and footsteps enter the room.
“So you’re Gabrielle.” Mr. Adams, your father declares, looking at me in disgust. “Even in sickness you’re still unable to leave my son alone.”
“Mr. Adams.-” I try to start but I’m cut off.
“I knew you were no good the second Chancellor tried telling us about you. As if it wasn’t bad enough he was trying to date a man.” The words Dean Adams spits at me then and there make my stomach sink but I choose to ignore them.
“I know, I know that you guys are cutting off his life support.” Suddenly I’m filled with a wave of panic. My heart is racing frantically. “Please don’t do this Mr. and Mrs. Adams.” I plead.
“Get out.” Mr. Adams orders.
“Please, give him more time.” I’m practically begging now.
“I said, get out.” Mr. Adams holds his stern tone, almost shouting.
“Dean.” Mrs. Adams says quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. She has tears running down her face that leave mascara streaks on her cheeks.
“If you won’t leave on your own, I’ll get someone to make you leave.” Mr. Adams shoots, shaking off his wife and bursting out of the room and down the hall. I can only assume he’s trying to get security. I don’t have much time.
“Mrs. Adams, please talk to him. He just needs more time.” I carry on, looking at her intently.
“Gabrielle.” She mumbles, shaking her head at me as tears continue to pour out of her eyes. “He’s been in an indefinite coma for over a year. The Doctors say that his condition is only getting worse.” She tells me through shaky breaths.
“I-,” I need to take a second to breathe. To figure out my words. “You guys can’t just give up.”
“We’re not giving up, but we can’t keep living like this. He can’t keep living like this.” Mrs. Adams takes my hands gently and looks at me softly. “We discontinue his life support Friday morning, come the night before to say goodbye when we aren’t there.” She explains to me before letting out a weak sob.
“No...” The word slips out of my mouth as I’m still in denial.
The door swings open for a second time and Mr. Adams reenters the room, now accompanied by two security guards.
“Make him leave.” Dean Adams orders the guards.
__
“My dad’s pissed.” He confesses.
“Chance.” I try to comfort, sitting next to him on the couch.
“Gabe, he says that if I don’t cut ties with you that he’ll take my name off the will, the inheritance and he’ll refuse to hand his company down to me. He’ll never accept a gay son” He tells me, dropping his head into his hands.
“You don’t need his money or his business.”
“That’s the real kicker though, I do need those things.” He laughs even though this situation isn’t funny whatsoever. “The apartment we’re sitting in is under his name. If he decided to take everything away from me I’d have nothing.”
“Isn’t what you want more important?” I ask, grabbing his hand. When he finally looks back up at me his eyes are red and watery. This sight alone makes my throat start to close up as an attempt to hold back tears of my own.
“It should be, but-” Silence.
“But what?”
“But this is my livelihood that’s on the line, his company, it’s been planned out as my future even before I was born.” He sighs. “Gabrielle I’m sor-”
“No, don’t say that.” I say urgently, I reach to grab his other hand.
“This isn’t what I want.”
“Then don’t do this.” I argue.
“It’s not that easy.” He frowns, watching me. More tears form in his eyes that forces them to spill over and fall down his face. His eyes search my face as he opens and closes his mouth, trying to go on. Eventually he gives up and drops his head back down.
“So what’re you trying to say?” Now I’m crying as well.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?!” I shout, jumping up from the couch and dropping his hands. I shouldn’t yell at him, but I feel so frustrated right now.
“I’m sorry I can’t be with you.” His eyes look at me, they’re filled with defeat.
All I can manage to do is scoff, scoff in disbelief. I shove my hands through my hair and pace around in a small circle before returning back in front of him. My heart starts to race and I can feel my blood rushing through my body.
“Chancellor, I love you.” I admit. He looks at me in shock.
“Please don’t say that.” He shakes his head.
“Chancellor Leo Adams I love you.”
“Stop.”
“I love you and it’s your fault I can’t stop loving you.” I state.
This wasn’t how I wanted to tell him I loved him for the first time. I imagined it would be more romantic and not during whatever the hell this is right now. I’d hope it would be a time where we’re smiling and spending time together.
After a long moment of silence passes by, it feels like my whole body has gone limp. I drop down onto the ground and lay my head in my hands on his knees. Small sobs travel through my throat and escape my mouth. I can’t stop myself from crying now. He gently picks up my head and kisses me before resting his forehead on mine.
“I love you too, but I can’t anymore.”
__
He made me hate this project.
I wanted to show him when it was finished.
How am I supposed to show him now?
I’ve been forcing myself to finish the portrait I started of him months ago. I genuinely enjoyed making the sketch with him, but now having to finish this piece has become harder than I could’ve ever expected. Every time I pick up my pencil, or even look at the paper that’s covered with your face I feel angry. I know I need to finish it. I will finish it. Not for him anymore, though, for me.
I’m disappointed.
I’m so confused.
“I’m trying.”
That’s what he told me. He told me you were trying. So why did he give up?
I’m waiting, waiting for him to call me or text me and to tell me he changed your mind. I’m waiting because I didn’t lie when I told him that I can’t stop loving you. I’ve been waiting for months, I don’t know how much longer I can do this.
My phone is ringing.
“Hello?” I answer once my phone is to my ear.
“Gabe, I just found out Chance is in the hospital.” The voice on the other line tells me.
What?
“He got into a really awful car crash a few months ago, he’s been in a coma.”
__
Please wake up.
Wake up before it’s too late.
I’m sorry for everything.
I’ll do better, I’ll be better.
I promise.
You just have to wake up for me to prove it to you.
Pathetically enough, I’ve shown up to see you in the shirt you gave me when we first met, magically paired with sweatpants. You’d be livid to see my poor fashion choices today. It’s also cold out so you’d nag me about not wearing a jacket and tell me that I’d catch a cold.
I want to stop time so I can stay here with you for eternity. But unfortunately that’s not how the world works. I sit here, my last night with you, and watch as the time ticks by uncontrollably. Seconds turn into minutes and minutes turn into hours. Every time I check the clock, more and more time has passed even though it feels like I’ve only been here for minutes.
__
“I made you some soup.” I present proudly, flashing my cheesiest smile.
“Are you sure it’s edible?” He teases.
“Fine, forget it. I’ll eat it myself.” I try my best to be convincing as I start to turn around.
“Wait no, I was just joking.” He laughs, reaching out.
“Uh huh.” I hand him the bowl slowly. “Be careful, it’s hot.”
“Thanks mom.”
“I’m never taking care of you again.” I declare, which only makes him laugh more.
“It’s your fault I’m sick.”
I sulk.
“I told you to wear an actual jacket when it’s cold.” He repeats, grinning.
“I know.” I’m not smiling. I feel bad.
“Well, you’ll have to rebuke your sins by taking extra good care of me.” He offers. This makes me smile. He dips his spoon into the soup and sips it.
“Is it good?” I question, sitting at the edge of the bed.
He only laughs at me in response.
__
The clock hits midnight.
“Today’s my birthday.” I say. December 14th. “You won’t be able to tell me happy birthday tomorrow so you’ll have to make it up to me somehow.”
“You also never got to make me a cake like you said you wanted to.” I continue, “But don’t worry, I went out and got one.” I pull the box with the cake out of my bag and set it on the table next to the bed.
“I got your favorite, red velvet.” I smile to myself. “With buttercream icing.”
If you could, you’d probably be excited but upset that I didn’t get one that was my favorite flavor instead. It makes me happier getting your favorite, though. So I go on and cut us both a piece and set yours on the table and take my plate in my hands.
“I think because you like it so much, I’ve started to like it myself.” I explain, taking another bite.
You’d be happier knowing that I’m trying to spend these last moments with you. I’m trying to do the best I can right now, but it’s nearly impossible when your pale lifeless face is no longer the one that was filled with color and so many emotions. Every part of you that held so much life is now drained.
You don’t know just how heartbreaking you look right now.
__
“I got you something.” He tells me proudly, holding out a fancily wrapped box.
“Hm? You got me something?” The thought of this small gesture makes my stomach run in circles.
“Yes, now take it before I get embarrassed and take it back.” He threatens.
I take the small white box out of his hands, watching as he eyes me intently. I scoff but on the inside there’s so many indescribable feelings happening to me right now it makes me lightheaded. I carefully pull the top off the box slowly, I pause before fully removing the box, looking at him. His face is in agony as I unbearable slowly inch the top off the box.
Finally I reveal the gift to myself and in its presence all I can do is sit in silence. “Is it ugly?” He asks, laughing nervously.
I’m speechless.
It’s beautiful. A silver bracelet with small diamonds wrapping around it. All I can manage to do is look at it in complete and utter awe. I point my index finger, sticking it out and smoothing it across the strip of diamonds. It doesn’t even feel real.
“Well ’cause if you don’t like it, I can return it.” He mentions reaching out.
“No no no.” I slap his hand away. “No, I really like it. I love it. It’s beautiful, but how much did this cost you?”
“One million dollars.” He says, looking at me stone faced.
“What?”
“Kidding. I don’t care about how much it costs.”
“Are you sure?” I’m not sure.
“Yes.” He smiles warmly. “Look how happy it made you.”
“Corny.” I tease. I pull the bracelet out of the box.
“Here let me put it on you.” He requests.
I hand him the bracelet, which looks way smaller in his hands. He grabs my left wrist and wraps the bracelet around it, clasping it. It fits perfectly, it’s not too loose nor too small. He doesn’t let my hand go as he continues to look at my wrist. He pulls my wrist closer and presses a kiss on the bracelet.
“It looks perfect.”
__
The silver on my wrist glints in the light. It’s about three in the morning and in this moment, I’m to the point where I can’t stop crying. A steady flow of tears leaving the sockets of my eyes as I carefully watch you. I don’t even bother to lift a hand to wipe them off my face, rather, I let them fall off and drop onto the white sheets.
I know technically you’re still alive, but to me, your voice died in the crash. So even though I come here almost every night to talk to you, I don’t expect an answer because I know I’m only talking to a ghost of who you were. And even though you can hear me, I know you aren’t able to give me the answer you’d usually give me.
It’s agonizing.
Like my heart is being ripped from its boned cage.
I wasn’t ready for this day, I’m still not ready. I don’t know what I should do. What should I do? How do I say goodbye? Will I even be able to say goodbye?
The realization of having to say goodbye hits quickly with zero remorse. The feeling it gives me is more than just sad, it’s a deeper feeling, like my soul is being ripped in half. How do you say goodbye to someone who had become your other half? How do you say goodbye to some you love so much but life was in the way? How do you leave someone you can’t say goodbye to?
__
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
“Just trust me.” He tells me, holding his hand out for me to take.
“Okay.” I give in, taking his hand.
Before we leave he hands me my jacket and waits for me to put it on. He leads us out of his apartment and up numerous flights of stairs until finally we reach a door with a sign that says “roof” on it. He pushes the door open with his free hand and looks back at me curiously. Instantly the cold air cuts through my skin causing me to shiver.
“This is it.” He says finally.
“You wanted to show me the roof?” I’m a little confused.
“God, no, stop being so literal for once. Look.” He gestures to the sky.
“It’s dark.”
“Oh my god. The stars Gabe. Look. At. The. Stars.”
“Oh.” I smile fondly.
“They’re beautiful, right?” He beams.
“Yeah.”
“I like to come out here by myself, a lot. It’s nice and calm.” His focus remains on the sky while still holding my hand.
“By yourself?”
“Yeah always, but I wanted to show you.”
“I’m honored.” I say only a little sarcastically.
“You should be.” He jokes.
We stand for a little bit before he drags me along, further onto the roof. He takes me close to the edge to a bench and sits down, patting the seat next to him for me. More silence. Peaceful silence. Comfortable, happy silence.
“Do you like it?” He asks, watching me and waiting for my answer.
“Do you want me to like it?”
“Well that’s not fair, I want you to genuinely like it, not just because I want you too.” He frowns.
“I genuinely like it.” I say truthfully.
“Good. Or else I’d probably be disappointed. I spend a lot of time out here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, when I lived with my mom and dad, I used to climb onto the roof to do this same thing.”
“And you’ve really never brought anyone else with you?”
“Nope, just you.” He rests his head on mine.
One day I’ll show you something special to me, too.
__
The clock is tick tick ticking. It’s relentless. Seconds to minutes, minutes to hours. It doesn’t know that every second it steals from me, it’s taking seconds of life away from you too. Every moment it takes is another moment I won’t ever get back with you. Another moment I won’t be able to make up for all the time we lost.
It kills me, wracks my heart so much I physically cannot bear it. I grasp my chest hoping for the aching to stop. Hoping for any chance that I can turn back time and stop you before any of this could happen, because if given the chance I would do anything to be able to keep you here. If given the chance there’s so many things that I would do differently.
My heart starts to thump and the panic sets in. It’s racing uncontrollably, my heart, it’s pounding so hard I can feel it in every vein running through my body. My hands start to shake and my fingertips start to tingle.
It’s terrible.
This is terrible.
I cannot do this.
__
“Remind me again how I’ve let you convince me to have these at home dinner dates with you? Five times and counting now?”
“That’s a great question.” His face lights up. “Where do I begin, there’re so many redeeming qualities about me that are irresistible” He looks at me with those teasing eyes.
“Is one of the qualities being self-centered?” I inquire, raising a challenging brow.
He chuckles at that. “I like to keep that one under wraps.” He sets his empty plate down.
“Makes sense.” I join my now empty plate with his. I let myself relax, let the tension boiling at my shoulders flow out. I lean against the armrest of his sofa, letting my legs stretch out, just short from my feet touching his leg.
“So, I’ve heard much about your passion for art.” He continues, turning the upper half of his body to me.
“So you have.”
“Well I’m sure you must have some photo evidence of this so-called art on your phone?” He says it like a question. He wants to see the “evidence”.
“I’m not sure about that.” I shake my head looking down at my fidgeting hands.
“Just one won’t hurt Gabe.” He watches me for an answer. I stare at him blankly. “Please, the curiosity is killing me.”
“It is not killing you.” I counter, rolling my eyes.
“It truly is. Can’t you see the life leaving my eyes.”
“Your eyes look dazzlingly alive.”
“Why thank you.” He smiles smugly.
I scoff, shoving his leg with my foot. “Fine you miserable soul. Let me find one to show you.”
He grins triumphantly. He leans back more comfortably while I scroll through my phone. Most pictures consist of my art. Photos of black charcoal smeared across paper and canvases alike. I scroll and scroll. Looking for something worthy of presenting to him.
Just as I’m about to give up I come across one of my older pieces. Something I was most proud of at that time. It’s a smaller canvas, marked up with silhouettes dancing against a sunset landscape. I debate for a moment, chewing on my lower lip.
“Let me see that one.”
“What?” I glanced up to him, now noticing that he was fully watching me.
“The way you looked at that photo must mean it’s good.” He leans his head against the back of the couch.
I let out a releasing breath. Shaking out any internal nerves still lurking. “Okay.” I move my legs to scooch closer to him on the couch, leaning into him slightly.
He takes my phone out of my hand. He sits back up and looks at it intently. Inspecting it. Inspecting my work closely. I start to regret agreeing. Red shame starts to heat on the apples of my cheeks.
“Okay give it back.” I reach my hand out, asking for my phone.
“No, no. I like it. I really like it a lot. What does it mean?”
“It portrays a broken family trying to present themselves as perfect to the world.” I look at my art from over his shoulders. The silhouettes dance but their shoulders slink and their heads are bowed. The sky is gray casted and lifeless. There’s rain pouring and it showers the family.
“It’s truly amazing.” He still stares at the phone screen.
“There’s a lot of mistakes-”
“No, Gabe. This is amazing.” His eyes hold mine now.
“Thank you.” I shy from the compliment, breaking eye contact.
I feel the couch move under me. Suddenly Chance’s body is much closer to me and he raises his hand to loop around the back of my head.
“I think you’re amazing and I’m thinking I want to kiss you.”
“I think you should man up and do it.”
__
You are so amazing. You will continue to be amazing for as long as I live. Even after you’re gone, you’ll be amazing to me. My heart will forever pound to the beat of your rhythm. The music that is you will reside in me forever.
I grasp your hand tightly. For a moment it feels warm, it feels as if your life and soul are flowing through me. My heart whirls and tears soak my face, they trail the curves of my face before dropping onto my lap. It’s almost as if your hand is squeezing mine and it makes my heart wrench.
My heart feels like it’s tearing in half. I feel broken and am waiting to be fixed. Without you I am half of who I am but with you I am whole. Half of your soul completes me and half of mine completes you. I’ll carry the piece of you with me until it becomes me. I will never be ready to say goodbye, but I’ve come to learn that I can love who you were forever.
Forever until I meet you again.
Forever until I can hold you again.
Talk to you again.
Feel the warmth of your love again.
Forever for eternity.
“I’ll love you forever Chance.”
