My Love, My Sunshine (Chanlix)[ COMPLETED]

7

Felix POV:

Chan is handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. He is handsome from his generous opinions to the touch of his hand upon my own. I love the way his voice quickens when he sparkled with a new idea, or was so enjoying one of mine that he lost himself for a moment and quite forgot the mask he wore for others. So I gave him my heart and kept his safe, that's the way it was.

His smile was one of happiness growing, much as a spring flower opens. I could see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. A person smiles with more than their mouth, and I heard it in his voice, in the choice of his words and the way he relaxed. It was beautiful.

There was something about the way he smiled; the way butterflies seemed to escape from the pit of his stomach and the way the sun had somehow toppled down from the sky and made a home right there in his heart. He had the kind of smile that made you feel happy to be alive and just that little bit more human.

And his laughter

His laughing was like ripples in a still pond after a stone has been thrown in. It radiated outwards through the packed hall of children who had up until that moment been quite silent. Now they too began to titter and soon the ripples of laughter became great waves of hilarity.

I’ve always told people,

There are lots of folks who can talk the talk, but show me a man who walks the talk - then I have trust, then I have faith in him because the language of Love is not spoken but lived. I don't care what you say, I'll watch what you do. That doesn't mean I won't love you or be your friend, but then it is I that will gently lead you and not the other way around. You don't have to be perfect and neither do I, we learn together, catch each other, and hold more ideals than we can live up to - yet keep walking even though all say the dream is only a dream. Dreams can come true, just dream the right one in the language of Love and know what it means - strong hearts, brave souls, complete and healed minds.

I finally found him

I always thought that trust must come before love, yet it is not so, for love and trust can arrive at the same moment. When love is given in this way, immediate, no explanations, and the trust arrives too. Perhaps that is why people advise caution or call it foolish, but to me it never is. Love is love, always a gift from the divine spirit. This love isn't physical, it isn't a "sin" to feel such strong affections; it isn't an excuse to leave a relationship that has become difficult. This love is a clue to a possible new branch in a life.

I love him but I don’t want him to get attached to me.

I am getting worse every day, my ending might me nearer each day.

The ending of life is expected, we all live in this mortal plane. What I resent is that death being longer and more painful than it needs to be. My body will self-destruct, day by day. The tumor will grow, spread, consume, and squash the very organs that work to sustain it. I've had a pretty good life, better than most, I don't need to hang on as a living ghoul; an "exit" pill would be kinder than all the attention from the hospice staff that lies ahead.

In the end it isn't dying that scares me but pain. If I don't wake up in the morning I will know nothing of it. I grieved for the loss of life I would should have had with them months ago, I always cry until my eyes run dry and my chest heaves violently. I'm not over it. I never will be. I wanted to see Chan and I have a daughter and son, I want to die with him when I am old and weak. But that isn't my lot and I have accepted that the Lord has called me home. I have stopped asking “Why me?” I have stopped raging at God. They work as fast as they can thought the scientists and doctors, I know. It just wasn't fast enough for me. So now just let me kiss the beloved people who have graces my life and go to them.

So shall it stay put, a smile eternally stained upon my lips. My joy, my love, my laughter, my cheer. All will reach the ears of those who have forgotten the warmth of such harmonies. I will share it all. I will play life’s song, the swelling symphony that can mend any broken heart.

My eyes drip with tears. My walls, the walls that hold me up, make me strong just... collapse. Moment by moment, they fall. Salty drops fall from my chin, drenching my shirt. Perhaps these tears will help wash the blood out. I press my head against the wall... baby blue, so innocent... I am anything but innocent. I'm trembling. I can't-can't stop. Even as I press my hand against the wall it shakes, it trembles. It's raw, everything, raw tears, raw emotions. I can't stop... I can't stop. Why can I not stop crying?

Whatever I think,

It is my tears that keep my soul alive in the furnace of this pain. They cannot extinguish what has been, yet only carry me forward until a time comes when that searing pain is distant enough to forget more than remember, and maybe one day erase itself from my brain. So perhaps it may be an oddity to thank my tears and be proud to cry, yet if that's what saves me from becoming a monster, a person indifferent to suffering and sorrow, then crying is the smartest thing I can do.