Day Thirty
If I would have known Paris was the last good day I was going to have with Jillian, I would have treated her better, made it more special, spent more time appreciating her.
I wish I would have spent every day appreciating her more than I did.
It was the first day of the second month and it was clear she was not getting better. The little sliver of hope that was in me slowly disappeared as the doctor walked out to me in the waiting room with the utter look of sorrow.
He sat down in the seat next to me, "I don't know where to start, Michael."
My eyes met his.
"It's bad. Worse than I thought. She isn't getting better. There's nothing we can do."
"So... now what?"
"Well, the hospital will be her home until..."
I shook my head, "you don't have to say it. I know."
He nodded. "I'm sorry Michael."
My mind was racing. I stared at the ground like it was going to give me an answer. "What... what do I do?"
The doctor looked at me and his eyes became glossy.
"I'm only 23. I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with her. I was supposed to wake up every morning to her face and know that it was going to be a good day because I was with her. We were supposed to have a family. This wasn't in the plans. I had our whole life planned out. I was happy. What am I supposed to do now?"
He nodded and placed his hand on my knee. "You push forward and continue to love her like she is still here. You wake up every morning and tell yourself it's going to be okay, that you will be okay. And one day, years from now you'll meet her again and it will be like she never left." He patted my knee and stood up, making his way back to the room.
I sighed, "And I'll be counting down the days."
YOU ARE READING
Breviloquent // m.c
FanfictionSometimes in this world we're faced with challenges that may not seem as though you will ever get past them. I've learned that it's better to make the best of what you have, and enjoy the days while you have them.
