Tiny Cas

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I waited, shifting from foot to foot, still nervous, but less so since we had already met earlier during the photo op. I could feel my lips stretching into an enormous smile, but didn't try to hide it. Why should I? I was in the presence of someone who had changed my life, and I'd finally get to thank him.

A volunteer gestured at us to step up to the table, and I did my best to stay focused, reminding myself that my best friend was by my side. I was grateful that she was going through before me, giving me one extra moment to try to calm my nerves and catch my breath. But I tried not to hover over her and eavesdrop on their conversation.

Before I knew it, she stepped aside and it was my turn. I held my breath, hoping he would remember me from earlier, but not expecting it. When his eyes lit up and he smiled with recognition, my heart melted. "Hey," I squeaked shyly. "I, um, brought you Maison's book."

I held it out over the table, and he took it in one hand, but took my hand in the other. "Thank you," he said, and sounded so sincere. "I promise I'll read it to her myself." I smiled awkwardly, not knowing what to say. It was such a silly little book, but I'd poured my heart and soul into it. "Did you bring something special for me to sign?" he asked when I remained silent.

"It's a sticky note..." I knew it sounded weird, and I had so much to say, but so little time. "I have your autograph already. But this--" I handed over our photo op from earlier, where I'd had Chris take a "Tiny Cas Was Here" picture-- "was for my project, and you need to know... you saved my life last year, just with a facebook post. It was simple but it was what I needed to hear. So my project, Tiny Cas Was Here, is to pay that forward and leave notes like that all over the place... that's why I wanted him in our pic... as for what to sign, I was hoping you would just write a semicolon on this for me? So I can get it as a tattoo?" It sounded confused, jumbled, the way my thoughts usually were when it came to him, and I prepared myself for him not to understand a single thing I'd said.

He kept me waiting for a moment, the expression on his face unreadable. Everything I'd said replayed in my mind, how it was wrong, inappropriate, too detailed, not detailed enough... but eventually he just smiled, and I knew everything was okay.

"Yes," he said a little awkwardly. "Of course. I'm honored." He took his time, pen held over the paper, before deciding just how to write it for me, even glancing at the 'family don't end with blood' tattoo on my inner arm before writing it down.

He started to hand it back to me, and took both of my hands in his, looking me in the eye. "Thank you for still being here," he told me. "I'm so proud of you." I didn't reply, certain I would cry and ruin the moment, but squeezed his hands before a volunteer shooed me away to give the next fan their moment.

I walked slowly from the table, a little dizzy, but proud of myself for not fainting. Before I got too far away, I glanced back. "I love you..." I told the space between us, then took a deep breath and prepared myself to return to real life.

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