When I Die [Wattys 2016]

Chapter 41: A Promposal

Four days before prom, my plan came to fruition. I called many of mine and Myra's friends from school who had practically begged to do something for me the entire time I'd been sick. This was all they could do, I insisted. I don't need money. I don't need a trip to Disney. I don't even really need prayers at this point... we're beyond that. You can show up, I'd told them.

And so, that morning, I spoke with Myra's mother who had been in just about constant touch with my mother the entire time I'd been sick, even more so since Myra and I were involved. My mom and Myra's mom insisted on buying Myra's dress together. Everything was a surprise.
I really hoped she would say yes, because frankly it would be distressing to more than just me if she didn't.

I picked Myra up around four that afternoon, I'd slept all day in preparation for our three hour outing. I wore the backpack of fluids strapped to my back, pumping liquid life into my abused veins. We ate dinner at a bakery and then I told her I wanted to see a movie. We went to a French film at the art house cinema downtown she'd been asking to see. My energy was slowly leaving me. I could still move, but I felt it creeping in, the feeling like an old pestering neighbor I knew too well.
We walked through the neighborhood for a bit, making our way towards my house, but I turned when we reached the park. The sun was setting on our perfect day. She had no idea what was coming, and watching her wonder was half the fun.

"Leo, where are you going? You're going to wear yourself out," she scolded with a smile.

"C'mon, live a little," I grinned, hands in pockets. I walked backwards towards the hill of the park.

We walked up towards the park benches and I sat, patting the spot beside me. She came up and sat, leaning into me.

"How are you feeling?" She whispered, listening to my quickened breaths. She was now somewhat of an expert of knowing what my deal was at any given moment.

"I'm okay, sorry. Just a bit out of breath," I said. I tried to straighten up. I'd be okay.
I walked over towards the binoculars which sat on the top of the hill overlooking our park.
"Hey," I said over my shoulder, "Come look, hurry."
Myra got up and came behind me. She put her hands on my waist and leaned in, pressing her face to the binoculars.

Immediately she began crying.

Through those binoculars, thirty seven of our closest friends and family held up letters which spelled out the question I needed to ask her.
I thought it was a bit much, but I reminded myself that this was the closest I'd come to a real proposal.
She gasped loudly, turning to me,
"Leo, are you serious? You don't have to go... you'll be tired, there's going to be a lot of people there..."
I cut her off,
"So is it a no?"
She shook her head,
"No of course not... I mean yes! Of course I'll go with you... are you sure?" She looked skeptical.
"Myra I asked you to prom, of course I'm sure," I said, half-trying to convince myself, and then she pulled me into a hug.
"I can't believe this... all our friends! Look at all of them..." she said, pointing out in the valley at all of the people gathered there. I stood closer to the edge and shot them a thumbs up. They erupted in cheers, we could hear them from our perch. Myra burst into laughter and nuzzled her face into my chest.
Right when she did, my chest rattled and I coughed. It hurt and sucked the wind right out of me.
She pulled her face away and looked up at me with a concerned stare, she was saying nothing but asking me a million questions at the same time.
"I'm okay," I strained, "Sorry."
"Don't apologize, Leo," she soothed.
I shook my head. The frustration welled up in me.
"This shouldn't be happening," I grunted, my teeth clenched.
"What are you talking about Leo?"
"This! This!" I huff, I gesture at her and I. She wears a somber expression.
"Myra it freaks me out. I'm trying to pretend this is all normal, and you are too, but it's not," I put my head in my hands, the exhaustion overwhelming me.
"Leo, its fine, okay? Everything's okay," she said, I know she knows she's lying. I know she hears my chest. I know she sees me struggling.
"Leo, talk, baby, say what you need to say," she whispers. I draw in a breath and exhale shakily. My skin is covered in goosebumps.
"I'm unhealthy. I'm dying, and I'm scared. I'm afraid that one day, when the lights go out in me, you'll be devastated. It's going to be hard on my family no matter what, by default they mourn, but you? You don't have to be devastated. Your life doesn't have to be changed. You're choosing this," I lay it all out, and she listens with no words. She takes a deep breath and I'm almost ashamed of how envious I am at the ease of her lungs inhaling. I cough.
She finally speaks, slowly and steadily.
"Leo, can you look at me?"
I concur and pull my head from my hands. Her face is serious still.
"Leo, I can't imagine how afraid you must be. I can't imagine how much this all is for you... being so sick, watching everyone keep living their lives while pausing your own, facing your own death... I can't imagine how hard it is, and I know that, okay?" She leans her head towards me. I don't answer and then she takes my hand in hers, awaiting an answer.
"Yes," I sigh.
"But, Leo, what I do know is that I love you. In fact, I think I've always loved you. I think I've loved you since we were eight years old. And this is the only chance I'm going to have to ever act on it. And I am so lucky, Leo. I get to have you. You're all mine. Do you know how lucky that makes me feel? We don't know what's going to happen, not really. We know what we think will probably happen, and what the doctors say will happen, but we're not ever going to be sure. I could die tomorrow, Leo, it wouldn't change the fact that I love you. And I will love you until your last breath, and I will hold you in my heart now and then, and for years and years after that or until my last breath. You are my first love, Leo, and I don't regret it, I never will," she whispers. She leans into me and hugs me, I hug her back.
I try to take in all the things she has said to me.
"I love you too, I just don't want to hurt you," I said, I closed my eyes. She stays silent. I hope she understands the levels of hurt I am talking about. I will not stand Myra up the night of prom. I will not say something mean and make Myra rethink her every move. I will not imply Myra looks fat in her favorite sweater, retiring said sweater to the Goodwill. These are all levels of hurt a girl can go through and grow out of, she would get over all of that.
Would she get over watching me deteriorate? Would she get over listening to me die? Would she get over the sight of me? Would she get over my funeral? And after this, would she feel weird dating again? Would she have fallen out of love and back in love? Would she be okay?
These were things I thought about all the time, and for whatever reason, they came to a head on the hill as I asked her to prom, and I wished they hadn't. I had very little control over anything in my life, when I felt okay, when I needed rest, what I looked like, or what my emotions were at any given moment. I hated it.

"So lets go to prom, then," I smiled. She smiled softly back at me, nodded and leaned in for a kiss.