The Story of Us

Chapter 14

When we think about the end of something, aren't we really just at the beginning? For me? I was repeating everything over again but in different order. I never saw something as ending but rather a start of a new beginning to a persistent challenge.

When we say 'the end', it seems so permanent; like closing a book or restarting someone's life.

Sure, you can't graduate high school and then the next day go back to kindergarten or pre-school to continue on through the cycle. That end of your life is closed. It's time to start a new chapter to a new beginning. Your new life where you're passed childish thoughts and dreams. A place you ended up that has forced you to put them away.

The end is forever. Its words that once spoken or written can't be unsaid or erased. The story of Harry, I'd like to imagine is continuing in another life that is far from here. One where I'm not apart of it and he can officially put away the silly thoughts that were once a nightmare. I'm where I belong and he is where he belongs. I don't envy him because It's a world I don't want to be part of. He's finally back on his planet and off mine.

I'm where I'm supposed to be and he's almost guaranteed happier where he is.

I say this because the last few days with Harry were pure Hell for me.

Not because of him but because his paralysis was growing worse; just as the opium shots were no longer helping with pain. His fever was seeping back and all I could do was curl beside the man I'd grown to care for these last few weeks and cry. All he could do was use his withering energy to try and calm my worry.

His soft voice broke the silence around us once I had gotten enough over my emotions to stop sobbing like a baby for the hundredth time. It wasn't easy when I felt every dead end come at me all at once.

I was failing.

I was failing like I failed my fiancé. I was failing like I did in saving my daughter. I was FAILING in every aspect of the word and yet, he didn't blame me.

Harry was dying as I sat by him. He was DYING while I watched and I could not do a damn thing about it. I couldn't do anything but sit beside him and break down.

Life sucked. It wasn't fair that no matter what I did, it was neve good enough.

"What's your favorite food? Like your absolute favorite dish in the whole entire planet and you better not say sheep." Harry warned, his tired voice straining to speak around his fading light. He kept his voice lighthearted and pleasant.

I suspect that was only for my benefit and not his.

Each hour I watched him fade. His lifeforce seemed so weak and here I am sitting here and unable to think clearly.

The foolish part of me is expecting an answer from a place I don't even know let alone believe exists.

"Grilled chicken salad. Mayo with onion and celery; no mustard," I replied distractedly. "What about you, love? What are you killing for right now?"

"Carrot cake." Harry chuckled weakly, his voice salivating from the thought.

"Healthy." I lightheartedly teased, taking a cold-cloth and wiping the small amount of sweat from his forehead. He hummed in response.

He went quiet after that for a moment; I could tell even behind his closed eyelids that he was thinking far away from here.

His reply told me I was correct.

"You know, If I close my eyes, I can picture my mum." He murmured, his voice cracking at the mention of his mother. He barely mentioned his family but he did mention his sister. It was obvious he missed them very much.