Lest I Forget

At Least I Hope You Want It

Mitch waited outside the door, glancing down at his feet with every nervous thought shaking his bones. He rubbed his eyes, exhausted from staying up so late over the past few nights perfecting the video for Scott. He'd lost sleep on it, but he knew that having results from his blonde friend would be so worth it. He gently rapped on the door again, hoping not to wake up the other half of the apartment. A tired blonde girl opened up the door, covering up her mouth as she yawned very loud.

"I'm so sorry, I dozed off." She laughed sheepishly. "Come in. He's asleep."

"Thank you so, so much Kirstin. You have no idea what this means to me." Mitch stepped inside and she shut the door behind her.

"I still am confused about what you're doing with this whole video thing, but I'll take your word for it." She motioned him into her bedroom and shut the door behind them. "You're not secretly a serial killer, are you?"

"You never know. I could be. A serial killing gay man, out for blood." Mitch chuckled and Kirstin flashed him a dull glare. "Sorry, sorry. Can I sit here?" He motioned for her bed and she nodded. He sat down while she opened up her closet and pulled out a large storage box, dragging it along the floor. Mitch stared as she did this, and she opened the lid and pulled out a box labeled 2011-2012. She set the box up on the bed and dusted the top of it off. It clearly hadn't been opened in a while.

"So, this is from the first year. I label each one by month with these dividers. You can see there's nothing in this box for August through December because he didn't go home and start living normally until around January 1st. He got sent home officially on the 30th, but he had two bad days where he ended up finding out and, well, taking a photo to make him remember the day wasn't appropriate in his opinion. So, each day he does take a photo I make sure to sneak it out of his room while he's asleep, write the date down, and I document it in here." Kirstin pulled a photo out from March 2012. "This is such a gross photo of me, back when I had my boring long brown hair, but this is literally so cute of Scotty." She smiled, showing Mitch the photo. She was wearing his black and yellow Joyrich sweater and he was wearing his ever-so-classy Bart Simpson jacket and his favorite hipster glasses. "This was at a friend's party, March 19th. We were just being goofy and he insisted on taking a photo with me because... well, does he need incentive?"

"Never." Mitch laughed and looked at the photo. Scott's friendship with Kirstin was absolutely precious. He admired it and was honestly jealous at how close they were. He wished he could have that... but he was trying. Mitch flipped through each little tab, seeing the different sorts of photos. This first year was particularly short on photos, and Mitch had to ask about it.

"This first year was a really, really rough one, Mitch. I hate thinking about it. I had to call for a permanent sub for weeks at a time because he was so bad. He would have nightmares for consecutive nights at a time and wake me up in a literal panic, refusing to believe it wasn't real, especially after he reached up and felt the scarring on his head. It scared me to death, too. Every single day I didn't think I'd get my Scotty back. He's my best friend... my brother, even. When his parents died my parents essentially adopted him into the family and took care of him. They moved out here after his wreck so they could help me when I needed it, because I couldn't always be there for him." Kirstin quickly shut the box, unable to continue without getting teary eyed.

"That's so awful... he's lived such a horrible life and he's so young." Mitch frowned. He watched as Kirstin pulled the other boxes out of the bin and opened all of the tops, letting Mitch wander freely.

"I wouldn't necessarily say the word horrible. It's been rough, yes. But I have to remind myself how happy he is. On a normal day he wakes up, happy and fortunate to be alive. Thankful for his well-being, and mine and Olaf's. He's my dog, by the way. But just seeing him be okay every day, knowing that life isn't as hard as it seems... that makes life worth living, Mitch. Because of Scott, I strive to make every single day the best day I can, because you never know what's going to happen tomorrow."

"You're such an angel, Kirstin." Mitch put his hand on her shoulder. "You are there for him every single day through every rough day, yet you're still so strong, so beautiful, and you're courageous."

She smiled lightly, pushing her hair back behind her ears. "Thanks, I guess." She shrugged and shook her head. "I still don't understand something, though."

"What's that?"

"What's in it for you? I mean, it's pretty obvious you have a crush on Scott. What are you getting out of it all? He doesn't remember you every single day, yet you want to meet him every day and start a friendship or relationship or... whatever it is you want to do. How is this healthy for you?"

"I'll show you." Mitch smiled and opened up the box labeled 2014-2015. He found August 2014 and flipped through, looking for the last photo that Kirstin put in the box. It was the one of when he first met Scott and took the photo in front of the Beyoncé poster. He handed the photo to Kirstin and she took it and grinned.

"I remember putting this photo in here. I just assumed you were a friend from RCA, or someone he's known for a while because of how y'all were so content looking at each other." A sigh of realization fled her lips. "You both seem so natural."

"Exactly." Kirstin handed the photo back to Mitch. "This photo gives me hope."

It's kind of silly, really, how a photograph
brings me so much joy, much hope.
It gives me something to look forward to.
Our connection seems so deep.

I only hope that one day I never have to
remind you and hurt you every day.
Though, if that day never comes,
I will remind you of the life you want.

At least I hope you want it.