Elysian Fields

Most people would say that love at first sight isn't real, which I agreed with for most of the 21 years of my life. I still believed it even when I met Dylan. Now, since times have changed, since we've been through thick and thin together, I sort of do realize that love at first sight could be real. In all honesty, when I first saw him sitting on the grey sofa in the living room of Logan and I's apartment, I had stared and hadn't thought much about a life induced with him, but it happened somehow.
He sat there though, captivating my eye. A beautifully structured face, ash brown hair, ashed eyebrows, dark toffee eyes that burned through me as I realized he was staring straight back at me. "What are you on about?", he asked frankly. His voice was raspy and deeper than I had expected, "Uhm, sorry I didn't mean to stare I jus-"
"Is it the oxygen tank or the demonic eyes?" he cut me off. I actually hadn't realized the oxygen tank. I looked and saw him take subtle breaths from the clear tubes that led up into each of his nostrils.
"What? No I swear I j-just w-we haven't met before." I shot back at him nervously as to clear any misunderstandings.
"Yeah, sure", he replied sassily.
"No, I promise" I shook my head and flailed my shaky hands.
"I'm just surprised that you aren't shocked that a stranger is in your home watching the Lifetime channel," he chuckled. He was right, I was more shocked by his stunning appearance than the actual fact that there was some lanky stranger in my home.
"Who are you, then?", I questioned.
"My name is Dylan. It wouldn't be a shock if Logan hasn't mentioned me before... I'm her brother"
"No, she hasn't really mentioned you before," I slowly walked over to the couch and sat down on the opposite side of him. He was quiet and turned away to face the glowing television again. We sat there awkwardly. Hearing nothing but the cheesy lines from the Lifetime movie and swift pumps of his oxygen tank playing in the background of the thick silence. "I'm Ari, by the way.. Just in case you wanted to know", I said with more confidence. He began laughing uncontrollably causing my clueless soul to spiral in a state of confusion. Then he stopped sharply and looked at me with dart-like eyes and one indented cheek. "Of course I want to know your name. You are my sister's roommate after all. I think it would only be fair if I knew your name.. Don't want her living with some random weirdo," he chuckled once more and turned back to watching the screen "doesn't change the fact that I think you're sort of a weird dude, but at least you're not some default profile picture anymore" he finished smugly. "Really?!", there went my confidence, right back down the drain that led to the deepest cavern of insecurities. This human was extremely belittling. Not in the manner of him being scary, but the amount of confidence that he carried within himself overflowed to the point where it was visible in everything-- the way he moved, the way he inhaled, the way he laughed in embarrassment for the actors in the movie. That was probably the scariest thing about him... confidence. I didn't know what I would have been getting myself into, but I dove in. That was my mistake, but somehow managed to be the best decision I had made in my life.
After our informal introduction to each other, Dylan and I grew very close in the span of many months. He'd often come over from his father's house when they got into arguments. Dylan would explain to me how they'd disagree and the littlest things and his father would drag it out-- blame him for being the way he was. Dylan claimed to hate him, but I knew deep down he didn't want to accept that his father really did care and love him. Dylan refused to acknowledge the pain his father was going through and that he really was trying his best. When I had lunch with his father, Kevin, he explained to me the difficulty of raising two children on his own since his wife had abandoned the family. One being a girl who didn't have the typical mother figure to look up to and the other suffering from a life limiting disease. But none of those factors stopped him, and I could see it in his dull, tired eyes-- persistence.
"How on Earth do you win every single time?" , I asked in frustration. Dylan was one of the best players in Monopoly I'd ever met. It was his favorite game to play, which I didn't understand. For the two and a half years I'd been attending Anteiku University, every student whom I've encountered refused to do anything but party and fill their lungs with foreign substances. I guess that wasn't much of a choice for Dylan. "I don't know, I guess if you want something bad enough, it's easier to get," he replied. His phone chimed and I was quick to peer at his screen to see a text message. "It's for that party Yve had told me about earlier. She invited me" he said with a smile satisfying my curiosity. It made me feel a great warmth in myself when his classmates would still invite him knowing well enough that he'd politely decline. I unfolded my legs and stood up and walked to our kitchen to prepare dinner, "Do you ever get... tired? Annoyed?" I asked over my shoulder. Dylan was quiet for a coup,e of sendings before he replied, "When they ask me, I wish they never had because I always have to say no. When they don't ask me, I always blame my lungs. It's a lose-lose situation in a way" he sighed.I began to fill up a stainless-steel pot with water. Silence. The running tap water coming out hotter and hotter by the second. A loud cough. Another. An endless jagged flow of coughing, so I turned around. Dylan was on his hands and knees facing down towards the floor.
"Dylan, are you okay?", I questioned with much concern as he coughed once again."I need you to... to pound my chest" he began while cupping his hands. He lay on his back and motioned for me to come towards him.
"Um what do I do, I-I never--", he started to bang against his chest demonstrating how to do it.
"It's easier if you just kneel on top... of me. Hurry please".
I moved briskly to his shaking body and carefully knelt with both of my knees on each side of his waist and started timidly pounding my cupped hands against his chest. "You have to do it harder if you don't want me to suffocate in my own phlegm" he smirked at my worried face as I started to pound firmer and faster against his chest. Ridiculous. Dylan exerted his coughs and tensed up before rolling onto his side and coughing up mucus onto the floor. Wiping my brow, I watched as he writhed in what one would describe as utter agony. It pained me to see Dylan in this state. Though I obviously didn't feel any of his pain physically, I felt it in my mind and throbbing heart. We had been to many of his doctor appointments together when Logan couldn't take him, but never did the the conversation of spells like these come up. I had learned that he and Logan had just recently made up after not talking for around two and a half years due to family disagreements, but I hadn't learned how to take care of him in situations like this. I had adopted the personality of a caring old woman and that typical advice-giving uncle since he had began visiting our apartment, but I hadn't lost my youthful charm. It was quite bold of him to brush off these incidents with a smirk at my worry and painful condolences.
The brun lay on his side staring at the blank off-white wall ahead of him. "I'm sorry," he began. "Why? Because you should have told me how to do this sooner? What if you couldn't talk, who would've been able to tell me how to help you?!", I somewhat shouted and made him wince. I walked back into the kitchen to grab a damp sponge and liquid soap. "I would've just.. I should have done it myself but.." his voice trailed off. Regret immediately welled up in my body as I saw tears roll down his face, but he wasn't quite crying. It was more like tears from a rush of relief. I soon realized how the amount of idiocy I had portrayed--things were already hard enough for him to have to deal with. I shouldn't have been the one yelling in frustration and fear, but something about the situation just pissed me off to the extent in which I didn't have any control over my emotions. I didn't apologize, just simply stooped down and helped him up to the sofa. The sponge absorbed the soap and i kneeled to clean
He wiped his mouth, "Attractive, right? I really should have told you," he sat back with his knees hugged tight to his collarbones and sniffed in embarrassment. "I also sort of... need to tell you something else and I didn't mean to hold off until this long, but I just couldn't bring myself to say it" he was hesitant, but confident in spilling out whatever he needed to say.
"Please don't get mad at me for waiting until this long, but in about a month I'm scheduled to be submitted to the hospital again," he was still sniffling.
"Why so suddenly? When did you find out?"
"At my last appointment, they told me that I wasn't getting the proper amount of fat and nutrients in my diet so they don't trust me to be at home anymore or some crap like that"
"So you.. How long do you have to be there?" I asked.
"I don't know, but not for long. They can't just take away my freedom like that. I won't let them keep me there for longer than like three days" he replied.
"Dylan, you need to understand that they're doing this for the sake of your well being, not because some foolish idea of them wanting to take away your freedom" I said seriously.
"Ari, you think I don't know that? I've been in and out of hospitals and doctors offices every month for 19 years,"he was upset, "It's just that when I met you, I started slipping up. I wanted to be a normal person around you, so I acted stupid and took advantage of your kindness and tried my best to disguise the flaws that cystic fibrosis has plagued me with because I knew when something like what just happened happens, I'd have you to take care of it for me. I'd have that feeling of not being alone. If I were you I'd just leave my slow self in the dust. But that's okay because," he sunk back into the sofa, "...I know things about you, Ari. Logan may not have told you about me, but she sure as hell told me about you. I know exactly what this is all about.. Your motives; intentions".
I swallowed hard eyeballing Dylan as he fiddled with a knot in his oxygen tube, "I don't know...what you're talking about".
"You came home and you saw your mother sprawled on the floor. You felt helpless-- like you could've done something; would've done something, but she was already dying anyway. You feel like you have to make up for that, so now you're stuck here in this situation with me. You know that I'm going to die soon, Ari, but this time you can't stop it. So you might as well stop using me to fulfill your feelings of emptiness and remorse now," he rasped out with a blank expression. He didn't even look in my general direction, just straight ahead. I couldn't speak. My breath was hitched and at that moment I wanted truly to die. I wanted to peel the skin off of my body as it felt so restricting to be in when I felt as if my insides would explode to reveal how I truly felt about being with Dylan. But... I was paralyzed.
It took all the power I had in my body to open my mouth and try to say something , but all that came out was a small squeak. At this point I wasn't sure who to be mad at. Dylan, Logan, or myself? In the end, did it really matter? The damage had already been done. The sad truth about what Dylan had just said, is that my intentions were to never take him for granted, to use him to make me feel better about myself, but that's what ended up happening and it became clear to him. I always blamed my mom's death on myself because I knew how easy it was to bring her down and how words and actions of others around her impacted her, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her that everything would be okay.I always thought about how if I told her life would become easier once I graduated high school, that I could help and support her in any way, she would still be here to see how true it could've been. Dylan was the complete opposite of her, but I knew how much he was truly hurting, so I made the choice to be the for him."You're not going to die", I finally mustered up the courage to say something. I knew all I was doing was lying to myself, but it's the only thing that made sense in the moment.
"Just shut up. Stop acting stupid." Dylan yelled. I stepped back surprised at how much power he had in his voice. "No. You're not. You can't do that" I shook my head initiating a piercing pain in my skull. "I'm going to die, Ari" he mentioned once again. "Don't say that! Take it back!" I hoarsely yelled. He scoffed, "I'm going to die". I looked away closing my eyes, but I heard the sound of shuffling feet coming closer and closer to me, "I'm dying, I'm going to die. So shut the hell up and accept it!" he let out. He was standing right behind me repeating the sentence. "I'm going to die. I'm going to die." his cold breath piercing the nape of my neck. "Listen to me damn it! Why won't you listen to me?! What's wrong with you! I said I'm going to die! Say something!" He shouted angrily as if the blood in his body was boiling and overflowing out of every opening on his face. Dylan began to wheeze, "I won't stop telling you that I'm dying until you understand! You think this is easy for me? I've come to accept my death way before I met you, but you've ruined my whole outlook and now I don't want to die anymore! You have to be the strong person for me because I... I-!", he fell to the carpet wheezing even harder. "My god, Ari, you're going to kill me" he wheezed out. I turned around to see him place his oxygen back into his nose. I slowly took a seat on the floor next to him biting my lip which tasted of salt from my burning tears. He moved in closer, "I'm tired of being exhausted. So please... Be the one that eases my fear of the razor guarding my heel", he said as he lowered his head onto my lap. Gently, I massaged his back trying to make him feel at ease. Helping his breathing pattern gain back it's rhythm.

I knew that Dylan wasn't being submitted into the hospital because of his diet.

When I went to visit him in the hospital, I remembered to bring him two roses. One real and one fake. I walked down the long brightly lit hallway to his room passing roaming patients with IV's along the way. I peeked into his room to see Logan sitting on a chair with her head in her hands, her brown hair covering her face. I tap on the door for permission to come in. She looked up and nodded her head. Slowly, I walk toward Dylan's bed to see him sleeping.
"He's been sleeping since 12 o'clock this morning", Logan said. I glanced at the clock. That was five hours ago.
"Logan, I think you should get some rest", I comforted, "Want to head back to the apartment?"
"Yeah, I might do that. I just didn't want to leave him" she replied.
"I understand" I assured as she grabbed her backpack and picked up a bag of trash. "My dad is here. He refuses to leave even though Dylan doesn't want him here. Call me if anything happens between them please", she explained while standing up to walk over to Dylan and kiss him on the forehead. And then she left. Their years of disconnection failed to rip them apart. She worked every day, taking into consideration almost any job offers to help pay off for medical fees, and while she was away, Dylan had me there for him. It was only then that I had realized how strong Dylan actually was. He wasn't afraid of death, nothing phased him. All of the stupid things he's done like being off of his oxygen for more than forty minutes while smacking me around and grabbing my controller as I beat him at video games knowing well enough that he was at risk of passing out, or going to the rooftop of our apartment building and dangling his legs off of the edge.
"What an idiot", I smiled placing the flowers on the table next to his bed. I looked around the small room. Nothing looked comforting as expected of a hospital. The room was beige and there was one window where the view of the orange sunset seemed to glow unlike anything I'd ever seen before.
"Pretty huh?" I heard Dylan say. I turned around to see him fiddling with the fake rose. "Yeah, it is" I sighed.
"What's with the fake flower?" He questioned
"Well.. like.. It'll never die so.. I just thought that it'd be a good idea for you to have it because I.." he looked at me anticipating my next words. I was tired of stumbling on my words every time I spoke. Dylan showed off his confidence when around others, it shined so bright. So I gave it a try.

"I love you".

The words flowed out of each our mouths in unison. Looks like cliches can't be avoided after all. "You know, that was so cheesy I think I actually might die right now" he cleared the silence giggling lightly. For the rest of that evening we talked our usual conversations and embraced which Dylan surprisingly suggested. We were only interrupted once by a nurse who had explained that if I wanted to sleep in the same room I had to be in the chair as to not to disturb the needles hooked into Dylan's body. We each said goodnight to each other.

When I woke up, the fake rose I had given Dylan was in my lap with a note attached to it:
"I truly wish we had more time to do as we pleased. To watch more cheesy Lifetime movies or to hear your dad jokes. I love you. I loved my time knowing you and everyone else who made my life with CF normal. I'll think about per every footstep in glowing fields"
You'll do just fine..
-Dylan"

That morning, Dylan didn't wake up.

He knew he wouldn't be able to bear one more day in agony, but I promised him I wouldn't mourn over him for the rest of my life. He made me promise to never look back at our time with a sorrowful mindset, so I don't. After my time spent with Dylan, I changed. I became stronger than I ever thought I could be. I stopped blaming myself for things I had no control over. I accepted what was and what was to come. My life no longer revolved around my regrets and mistakes. He made me realize what a waste of time regretting was. I no longer fear the razor guarding my heel.
-Ari