I'll Be Right Here Forever

4

The four seasons had gone by, twenty something more times around. The flowers bloomed, and the fireworks burned. The leaves fell and the snow melted watering the newly born flowers once again. 

He took a drive one afternoon, finding a shady little place not far from where he'd lived now. Back in Jersey, not far from the house he grew up in. 

Getting out of the car he walked slowly to a bench not far from a large tree. He closed his eyes once he sat. He's had this pain in his chest that has been bothering him for a few hours now, but decided to ignore it for now.

It was his birthday today. It brought a small smile to his face, now fifty-nine. 

Just twenty years ago he was begging to be taken out of the wonder that is the earth. So what changed? 

That week, he turned the house over to the bank. He only had enough money in his account to get sober and go to therapy. He also sold the gun to a pawn shop, which gave him a bit of pocket change so it helped out. 

He lived in a shelter for a couple months and started his journey to being sober. That alone took a couple of years to do. 

For the remainder of the American life, he went back to work. It was really the least he could do for himself. He got a small new house, away from the old one, leaving away his haunted memories and desperate actions. And after all of that, he called Christine. 

He apologized, many, many times. He told her he didn't deserve her, he told her that he didn't expect her to forgive him. And he let her know he was wrong. 

"Jeremy, it's okay." She had told him, despite him feeling like his actions were far from okay. He then paid back the years of child support he'd missed out on. 

He opened his eyes. 

How different his life had turned out to what it could have been if he had let himself go years ago. It made him realize how much it took to take your life. 

And he realized that he in fact didn't know Michael's pain. He couldn't ever come close to understanding what he felt. He knew he wouldn't ever get his answer or know, and maybe it was okay that he stopped chasing unanswered questions. 

He'd gone home after half an hour, getting back into the PT Cruiser, no longer feeling a sense of dread by having it, but feeling honored that it was left in his hands. 

That night he sat alone at his kitchen table, a small store bought cake in front of him, the two wax numbers burning brightly in front of him. He closed his eyes as he thought his wish up. It took him a moment or two before he opened them back up and blew the candles. Leaving the faint glow of the lamp in the living room as his only source of light. 

He sighed as he sat back in his chair. The pain in his chest becoming unbearable. He wiped a stray tear that had run down his cheek. 

"Happy birthday," A faint voice whispered across the table from him. 

Jeremy looked up quickly and before he could stop himself, his eyes welled with tears and streamed down his cheeks. 

"Michael?" 

Michael sat across from him, unchanged, just like the last time he saw him. A small smile on his face. "Hey Jer, old age looks good on you." 

He let out a laugh, his tears falling faster than he could catch them. 

"Michael I've missed you." 

"I know," he says sympathetically. "I wish I could've seen you sooner but it wasn't time yet." 

"Is it time now?" 

"I'm afraid so." 

"I don't want to leave yet." Jeremy frowns.

"I know." Michael sighed. "I wish you could have more time to live your life." 

"Have you lived?" 

Michael exhaled through his nose and mustered up a smile. "Yeah. Though it is hard to do much living without you." 

"I know what you mean." 

Michael laughed softly, and stretched out his arm, holding his hand out for him. "It's time to go Jeremy." 

"Death won't do us part." He says as he reaches out and takes Michael's hand. 

Jeremy William Heere was found dead in his house from a heart attack, just after turning 59.