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She was the only one for me for a long time until I found out I was dying.
Some days I would find myself staring at her, wondering how she would react if she knew. I went to the doctor one day and they told me it was cancer—that it was spreading fast and there was nothing I would be able to do with it. I was broken for a while but I refused to tell anyone because I realized that it would be a burden.
And she was happy.
She was happy because we were going to get married.
She went on for days about how she couldn't believe it was finally happening. We were together for five years, through thick and thin. She was there for my up and downs, she knew my habits, my patterns. She loved me for it and I was not going to take it all away.
I was about to tell her.
I promised myself that she had to know what she was getting into if she was going to get married to me. I could already picture her face. It would freeze then it would fall. Her hands would reach for mine and she would tell me that we'd find a way together because that is what we would have done. She'd tell me that she'd work and that if there was a will, there would be a way.
And I would have to tell her that money wasn't the problem and the problem was that my body was dying.
And I would have to watch her eyes tear up, her bottom lip tremble.
I would have to watch her sob right in front of me and I know I would have cried too.
But the moment didn't come and I remember telling her that I would see her soon. For some reason, I went to the flower shop and got myself a bouquet of flowers to give her. I lifted the flowers up to my nose, sniffing the scent.
Forget-me-not's, they were called.
I went into the car, stepping on the gas. The rain was heavy and the radio was on and I rehearsed what I would tell her. The tears did not come yet, but the heaviness was definitely there. My heart twisted in my chest and I remembering praying for her. I remembering praying to god to make it quick, to please give her everything good because I would be taken away from her soon.
And then it was a mess.
Headlights and the wheels of a drunk driver, driving opposite from me. I wish that I could say that it was painless, but it wasn't. The impact was quick and my body suddenly felt the hit and I could feel the jabs of glasses against my body. The flowers were now red with my blood, my phone ringing in my pocket and I knew it was her.
