dear ana ❥ h.s.

grimm reapers best friend

The hospital was colder than usual, or maybe it was just me; I wasn't sure which. I had piles of blankets covering my pale body, and the heat was blasting. I was still cold.

My dad used to tell me if you were ever colder than usual, it was a sign you were dying. I think he was right, and I think I'm dying.

A month ago, I felt fine. I could walk, I could eat. I felt normal, just bald and obviously sick.

Now, I felt like crap. I couldn't walk, I would throw up if I ate, and I couldn't stand to look at myself in the mirror. I had grown pale and thin, and it was a sad sight.

Harry was here everyday, bringing flowers. He would place them in the vase he bought me. I thought they were beautiful.

My least favorite thing about this was him. His sad eyes, the way he couldn't always look at me. He told me how much he loves me every day, and every day it broke my heart more. I should've left him, I shouldn't have gone back. It was heartbreaking to see him like this, to see him watch me die.

"How are you feeling today?" My nurse asks, checking my IV.

"8."

"Alright. Do you want anything to eat?"

"No, I want Harry."

"He's not here right now, but I'll send him up when he is. Do you want anything else?"

"You can leave."

She leaves, taking my charts with her and closing the door. I reach for the remote, laying my head back and flicking the tv on.

A few hours later, I heard the door click open and Harry walked in. He held a bouquet of flowers, as usual, but held something else also. He looked sadder today, but I knew why. It'd been a month since I told him I was going to die, and he knew it would be soon.

He sets the small box on the table, putting the flowers in the vase, and sitting down beside me. He takes my cold hand in his, kissing it softly.

"How are you feeling?" His voice is barely audible.

"8." I answer quietly, looking into his dark green eyes. I could tell he's been crying, his eyes redder than usual and his face was puffy.

"Do you need anything?" he asks carefully, rubbing my hand with his thumb. He traces small figure eights.

"Just you." I whisper weakly, smiling slightly. That brings a smile to his face, and for a moment I feel the butterflies I did when we met.

"What's in the box?"

He takes the small box, smiling sadly. He looks at it for a few moments, setting it down beside me and combing his fingers through his hair.

"Ana Michele, I promise you that I love you. I promise that when you're gone, I will continue to love you. You gave me a love like I've never known, you made me feel like no other. You are the love of my life, the sun in my sky. You woke me up from a long nightmare, and made me feel alive again. I promise that I will never forget you, and all of the things you are and should have been."

He's crying now, and I can't help but cry with him. It was a promise ring.

"I promise that I will visit you as often as possible, and I promise to not dwell on the past as it is behind me. I will bring you flowers every day, and I will read to you every day. I will take care of your cat, because he is mine now. I will feed him and pet him, and I will buy him toys. I will paint you every day, and I will think of you every time I win an art contest. I give you credit for every accomplishment I have ever had, and I give you credit for my happiness. I thank you for making me see the sun again, and I thank you for making me feel alive."

He removes the ring from the box, taking my small hand and sliding it onto my ring finger. He kisses my hand once more, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"I love you, Ana. I always have and always will. I wish I had had forever, but you gave it to me in the short time we were together."

***

It was 3 in the morning, and Harry still hadn't left my side. He hadn't slept either.

My nurse comes in, checking my IV and scribbling down on my charts.

"How are you feeling?"

"9."

"Sit up, please." she says, unwrapping the stethoscope from her neck and checking my breathing.

"This is your last check up." she says softly, wrapping the stethoscope around her neck again. "Bittersweet."

I could see the tears in her eyes, and I knew Harry had them too. She said I was her favorite patient, I was never blatantly rude to her and always tried to smile for her.

"It's been a joy taking care of you, Ana." She engulfs me in a tight squeeze, and I return a weak one. "I hope heaven treats you well."

I didn't have anything to say, so I just nodded. I have to admit, I was going to miss her a whole hell of a lot. She exits the room, leaving me and Harry alone.

He immediately takes my hand, raising it to his mouth and planting soft kisses on it. He's crying full on now, but it's a silent cry. A gentle cry.

"You're so beautiful, you know? More beautiful than I could ever tell you, more beautiful than I'd ever be able to describe. I love you, Ana. I love you with all of me."

I laid my head back into the pillow, closing my eyes. I didn't want to cry, because I didn't want this to really be happening. But against my will, tears began to run down my cheeks.

"I love you too, Harry..."

My dad used to tell me how dying set you free. How your life was just a prison, and you were balloon aching to be cut free from the string holding you down. Death was the pair of scissors cutting you free. Death was also said to be painless, but I guess that was a lie people told me so I wouldn't be scared of dying.

Truthfully, it hurt. It hurt like hell, and it was the scariest thing. Slowly losing your breath, your eyes stuck closed. You couldn't control your movements, but you could vaguely hear everything around you. I still felt Harry's hand in mine, and I could still hear him. I heard him talking. I heard him crying.

I felt the pain, I felt every bit of it. And once it was gone, I was free. Just like my dad had told me.

Love me for who I am today, not who I was yesterday, and surely not for who I could have been.

That was the end. The end of me, and the end of our story. The love we shared was a beautiful one, one I hope every person finds. I let him destroy me, and my dad was right, I was grateful. I knew what it was to love and be loved in return.

Life is a beautiful thing: don't take it for granted.

Sincerely,
Ana.