A New Beginning

I am awake all evening, even though I am comforted by Mitch's company. I listen as his breathing becomes steady into the night, and notice when his breathing stops for a moment. I watch him sleep occasionally, but I do not move from my spot laying next to him. I stare up at the ceiling and feel every hour pass by, every minute, every second. I turn my head to see the sun rise and I don't smile, I don't react. I just watch the sun swim up into the sky and into my eyes. I feel the muscles in Mitch's back tense and stretch as he rolls over on me softly, his small limbs resting on my body. I feel the melancholiness pass over me at the thought of my best friend not being by my side, the thought of never being married, the thought of loosing him to the hands of oblivion, like sand slipping though the fingers of time. I can feel the shadow of the black knight over his small body, slowly draining his life out of his mind. I look down at him, and decide that I should do something about it.

***

Weeks had gone by until the doctors had decided that there was no way to stop the tumor from growing and causing him to go brain dead. Pentatonix was in shambles, everyone was worried, the fans were giving their best support. That was when I knew what we had to do.

***

I drove the car, my hand on the steering wheel, fingertips grazing the fabric that held onto the piece of plastic, which had worn over time. My eyes never left the road, but I could see Mitch from the corner of my eye, looking out the window. I parked the car on the side of the road and looked over at him before opening the car door and stretching my long legs. I go to the trunk and open it, pulling out two bottles of champagne and a few blankets, the ones that sat in my trunk the past few years.

I walk over to the passenger door and open it to the thin blonde haired man whom I had loved my entire life. I offer him my hand to which he takes, standing up. I hold onto him so both he and I will be stable walking up the hillside. Once we finally reach the top, we are rewarded with the beautiful view of Los Angeles and the sunset. I lay the blankets down the same way I always have, and sit down next to Mitch. I hand him one champagne bottle and we look out at the wonderful city, it's strange melancholiness reflecting in both our eyes, the colors spreading over the vast horizons. We watch until the sun sets and the light scatters across the sky, stars just beginning to shine and the moon becoming brighter with every minute.

I drink more of the bubbly liquid and realize that it's empty. I look over to see that Mitch is also finished with his bottle, it sitting next to him. His eyes finally reach mine and I see many of my own emotions reflected in his spirit, mirror images of each other, but yet, I still do not understand how he feels. What is running through his mind, I wonder, as I turn away from him to make the biggest decision of my life. I reach my hand into my pocket and hold it there for a second, words beginning to run through my head.

"Mitch..." I say, knowing he won't reply.

"Remember when we first kissed here? Remember when I asked you if you would be mine...if you would be my boyfriend...and spend the rest of your life with me? Well...the right words didn't exactly form in my mouth, but I didn't want to scare you away. I know how you're afraid of commitment...I know how you wanted it to be special and perfect but perfection isn't always something we all are blessed with," I say, eyes scanning the pink, purple, and blue colors in the sky.

"I know that this isn't what you wanted...but- I was wondering if you would..." I continue, stumbling over my tears. I sniffle and take a shaky breath before I continue.

"Will you...marry me? For real. I mean it," I say, pulling the small box out of my pocket and opening it, the light that is still in the sky illuminating it. He looks over at me, and down at the small golden ring with our initials engraved on it, and a small saying. I notice that his cheeks are wet with tears, and they seem to glisten as his silhouette moves to read the inscription on the ring.

"You aren't forgotten"

His shaky hands tremble as he pulls the ring out and tries to place it on his finger. I place my hand in his.

"Here, may I?" I say, to which he nods his head. I place the feathered gold ring on his finger, then I take his hands in mine, stroking them evenly. I bring the small man into me as he lets himself fall into my arms weakly, sobbing onto my shoulder. I embrace him and cry silently with him, until it is too dark to see, oblivion draping his hand over us and caressing my skin.

***

There are no words to describe what it means to have someone who understands you, truly and deeply. Someone who knows what you are thinking about, how you feel, and what you need. There was just one thing I needed, and that was a small brown haired boy with a voice that called my name when he was angry, sad, happy, or everything in between. His voice filled my heart with joy, and even to this day, I can still feel it's warmth.

We had a wedding ceremony the following evening, because we knew time was running out. Everyone was there, and there was cake and memories, and a special video that Mitch's mom put together of a bunch of memories we had together from day one to most recently being that day. There were flowers and cocktails and many things that we reminisced about, words floating through the air like art. And after the ceremony we went on a honeymoon, which we recorded so that when he forgot, we could remind him. There were many years that we spent where all was well, living together in different parts of the world, including Iceland, until we somehow made it back home to Texas.

We bought a place near Arlington, and spent a few months there until one night, Mitch completely lost it. He ran away from me, screaming and crying, demanding to know who I was and where he was. I called everyone and we had to coax him into going into a car where a cop handcuffed him so he wouldn't thrash anymore. We all cried that day, everyone except me, because there were no more tears.

I sat outside in the waiting room for what seemed like years, and what an old man I had become. We were the old married couple, we always had been. Finally, I was allowed to walk into the room and instantly he began screaming, yelling, telling me to get the hell out of the room. That was this moment.

"GET OUT! STOP FOLLOWING ME! WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?? W-why are you here? You-you kidnapped me! You did something to me didn't you? Didn't you? You can't fool me. HELP! HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" He screams, his voice raw and hair tuft, his thin body straining and stiffening in horror at me. Except no one comes, and he finally calms down. I see that the golden ring is on the ground, and I stoop down to pick it up. I run it through my fingers and sit down on the chair across from him.

"Who are you? What is that? Was I married to someone before? Because it certainly couldn't be you!" He says, and minutes have passed. Still, no words leave my mouth.

"Answer me! God damn it, answer me! Don't I at least deserve that? Come on! Why won't you answer me?" He yells, raising his voice. My eyes are pinned to the tile floor, and minutes continue to pass by.

"Just look at me, at least. Look at me...please..." He says, his voice quiet and tone calm. I slowly move my eyes up and into his, and I take a deep breath as I do so. I hold my eye contact with him, and then get up. I leave the room, and come back in with a TV on a rolling table. I turn it on, and set it to VCR. I then place the tape into the TV and rewind it, not meeting his glance. Once it has fully rewinded, I press play, and look back at him. His eyes meet mine, and then they settle onto the TV. Our memories fill the screen and I see confusion and many other emotions spread across his face. Finally, the tears start to roll down his cheeks and he sobs loudly as he realizes what is happening. The tape stops at our traveling across the world and most recently, ending up back home, where we took a tour of our high school. I turn the TV off and eject the tape, setting it on top of the TV. I walk over to him, and sit beside him on the bed.

"I still don't understand...I don't know what's happening..." He says, and I still don't say anything.

"Can I see the ring?" He asks, and I fish it out of my pocket and hand it to him, our hands brushing each other for a second. He smiles and places it on his finger, tears still streaming down his face.

"Scott?"

A new beginning is an end to a previous story. That book closes and you are left with unwritten pages of a story you know all to well. This is one of those beginnings...