If I Stay » Parker

before i go

ten;
before i go.

✱ ✱ ✱

BEFORE I GO, I want to relive the last good memory he and I had together.

I had lived in New York City for my entire life, yet I had yet to experience the thrilling simplicity of walking on the Brooklyn Bridge. I'd driven across it countless times, the flashing of the pillars and the bumper to bumper traffic were both familiar sights. But, the thought of taking the pedestrian walkway always terrified me, as being high off of the ground was never my forte. However, as time had gone on, I'd realized that facing my fears was important. It is what truly made me feel alive.

My relationship with Peter had been one of those things, those experiences that make your stomach drop a little and your heart beat a little faster. The type where you bite your lip and bounce your leg out of both anxiety and excitement, a perfect melody of uncertainty and optimism. He'd been the first to help me face my fear of heights, and now, it seems beautifully ironic that our last moment together was spent in a similar manner.

His hand clasped mine. Strong, determined, with a sense of familiarity and tenderness that made my heart swoon, and with enough security to ensure me that everything would be alright. I remember that as we walked to the bridge, I made light-hearted jokes about falling to my death. I now realize how ill-timed these jokes were, and if I could take them back, I would in a heartbeat.

One foot in front of the other, the only thing keeping me balanced was his hand in mine. The only thing keeping me alive. At the time, I underestimated the gift of a heartbeat. My heart was thudding in my ribcage, and I wished it would go away, wished I wouldn't have the same nerves around him that I did the day we first met. Now, that same heartbeat was the only thing keeping me here another day.

I looked at him. His eyes would switch from me to the setting in front of us, a smile constantly painted on his lips and a whimsical determination etched on his face. Peter never seemed afraid of anything, not even a little bit. He always looked at life with a certainty that everything would be alright, no matter what challenges faced him. I always wondered how he got to be that way, so void of fear, so ready to conquer the world. I admired it.

The sun was rising slowly in the horizon, the early morning glow settling on both of our complexions, representing a new light being shed on our relationship. It reminded me that even as the darkest of nights pass, the sun will eventually come up again, bringing new life to everything living under it.

The only cars on the road were those of New Yorkers making their early-morning commutes to work. Otherwise, we were practically alone, no one else walking on the bridge along with us. Peter took my hand in his as we sat down, keeping me steady. It was one of those moments where all the pain of the past few weeks had melted into a distant memory, and now bright horizons were all I could see.