Starting at the End

Epilogue

I always believed that books started at the beginning and inevitably, ended at the last page. That is how almost all books are. But now I see that this book, is not most books. This is the encumbered story of a dying boy. My dying boy.

So here I stand, looking down at the dirt that so rudely covers the casket we painted together. I don't want to cry, I hate crying, but the tears sting my eyes and heavy drops of water continue to cascade down my face. The people that were here earlier looked fine, then again, they didn't know him. The real Noah, who believed in the impossibility of the extraterrestrial. The one who was easily fascinated by anything and everything. The one that would take his bottom lip between his teeth when he was concentrating. The one that saw all of my quirks and imperfections and made them seem perfect. The one who ran his hand through his hair when he got nervous. They only saw the rich kid, who put on an act to please his father and the people around him. Their close mindedness kept them from knowing the wonder that was Noah Beckett.

I am the only one left. People have trickled in and out of the cemetery, on Noah's behalf, for a few hours. Similarly to when he was alive, I have remained the only constant. His own father couldn't stay very long because of an "important" meeting at his company. What's more important than the burial of your only child? I may never know the answer. My hair has been pulled back into a messy bun and my face contains a mix of foundation and a touch of waterproof mascara. Everyone that attended the burial was dressed in black, but I am wearing a white summer dress with lace detailing. Noah picked it out when we were traveling. He told me that I had to wear it to his funeral because amongst all the darkness I had been a light and people needed to see that.

Noah Beckett was the kind of boy that little girls would use as their imaginary boyfriend. He asked you questions that you yourself have never pondered. He had this way of making me feel like I am the only person that has ever mattered to him.

I know how cliché it sounds, but he was something I couldn't lose. He illuminated my world in a million different colors. He never ceased to fill the fractures of my heart with irreplaceable golden memories. Our connection went deeper than hand holding and shared facial expressions. We were tied together by the dwindling strings attached to our hearts. I am in love with Noah Theodore Beckett. And he was in love with me.

Noah had many flaws, but there is one in particular that I really wish he didn't have to fight with. Noah, my dying boy, had CADASIL, this stands for cerebral autosomal dominant arteriopathy with subcortical infarcts and leukoencephalopathy. It sounds intimidating and, trust me, it is. CADASIL can cause strokes, immobilization, and, much to my dismay, death. For Noah it was a slow yet steady development and it was not planning a vacation any time soon so Noah and I decided to live life to the fullest before he could leave.