Everyone needs a player 2 in life.
I've found that player 2, and I wish I could confess but I'm to embarrassed, she's too good for me. Her name reflects her personality, soft and sweet, always bringing out the best in people, the best in me. Rose, Rosie Rose, I repeat her name in a sing song voice and her laughter fills the air, its almost like I can see little musical notes floating around us, and my smile grows with hers. My smile grows, and so does my love...and so do the flowers.
I've found my player 2, soft and sweet as sunshine. He's like a little puppy, always calling my name in this sweet little chirp, like the early morning birds. He's always bounding towards me, always eager to see me, as I am to see him. I love him, but those petals aren't the only thing taking me down. I can't bring myself to tell him, I can't bear to see his little light fade. I'm waiting on a miracle, if there could ever be one...
But I'm to late for a miracle. There couldn't ever be one. And watching his face fall when he sees me is my biggest nightmare come true.
I'm too late, but it seems like I've always been to late. Half a heart-
"Half a heart, stand down"
Just as a damn breaks, so does he, crying in denial as the monitors beep around him. They're so loud, it's like they're screaming at him to look at the truth, but the only sound he can focus on is the sound of his own heart breaking. He can't stand down, he can't because he loves her, and that love is overcoming him as well. Why couldn't she be dying of love too, that way he could fix her, he could fix her but he can't. He can't heal her, he can't restore her hearts, he can't reset for her and listen to her angry pouts. He cant fix it this time and it's painful, it's painful it's painful.
The thick air of tension and understanding that this was the end hangs in the air. They simply lie with each other, and listen to the monitors. She's like she used to be, but that's not what he wants. He doesn't want that, he hates that. He wants her to be herself, even if that means if she's sleeping a lot and a little slower. He misses her, even as she's right next to him.
"Half a heart, down together"
As he finally chokes that out, she realizes what that means, and she too begins to weep. He never told her, she never told him. Maybe if she would have, he would have lived, and he would be ok...but she cries harder. He would have lived, but not much longer. He would have followed her no matter what, no matter where.
He listens to the monitors beep, and beep, and her breathing, and kisses her pale lips. He listens to the monitors scream, and watches her leave, and lies there. He lies there as the monitors start up again, but he knows he won't have to hear them scream again. He lies and keeps her scent close, and watches the sky. He softly hums her lullabies, and watches his friends burst through the door. At least there's a friendly face on the way out.
Their funeral wasn't solemn, they both wouldn't have wanted that. Their tombstones had half a heart on each one, and were next to each other, just as they were to the very end. They both were waiting on a miracle, and perhaps their close passing was it, in a twisted way of fate.
Sometimes it seems like the sun gleams brighter on their birthdays, and the flowers seems so vibrant and full of life. On their death day, it's almost always cloudy, and the sky and flowers always seem to be crying.
