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I remember the summer everything changed. And that summer was the last one. For us.
She gave off feminine energy (slay queen?) , meanwhile I was a tomboy. We both liked Yuri. she was older than me by two years (unc).
That summer was my last. I got diagnosed with brain cancer. I remember when I told her, on June 23rd. She looked at me possessively, holding my curly hair and pulling me towards her, feeling her hitching breath, "tell me your lying." She said, holding back tears.
I shook my head. She looked away. "But we're so young. We have time. But...why?" She asked. I looked away. "I...don't know." I usually know everything, but I was found dumbfounded. Too many words were flooding in my mind. "No." My mind stopped, the familiar,possessive voice coming back.
"Is this your last summer?" She asked. I said "maybe. I don't think I have much time." I said, my voice cracking. The sun was going down and her ginger hair was shining the way it always does. "Then...I'll make it the best." She said.
I was holding her wavy hair. I shook my head. "No. Don't. It's a was-." She looked at me and held my face and gently squished it, her way of protesting against me. " it's not a waste to make the most out of my loved ones life when they have so little time left ." She said.
I froze. "Your half of my soul, gosh darn it. The poets are correct. You are. And your gonna make the most of it!" She said angrily. "I love you and I hope you know that" she said, shaking with Anger.
She held my curly, blonde hair, and squeezed it one more time. I looked down at the grass under my knees. She held me closer. We didn't say anything as the sun went down.
A year later...
Surrounded by machines, I saw my own lover, weak and fragile. I gulped. I felt...trapped in a sense. I couldn't move. I kept looking at her weak heartbeats, the doctors rushing. Everything was a gosh darn blur. I saw nothing. My vision hazed. A year ran down my cheek. I felt it. The cold tear went down my cheek to my neck and soon, my clothes were soaked with tears. I stayed for a couple more days because there may have been hope.
One day I quickly sprang out of my couch after a crying session with a knock on my door. I opened it to see an officer, taking their hat off in condolences. I couldn't even hear her name. "Is dead"
"Is dead" "Is dead" "Is dead" "Is dead" "Is dead" "Is dead" "Is dead" "Is dead" "Is dead" "Is dead" it kept repeating itself. It just kept going. Everything was a blur. I found myself sitting at the hospital, holding her close. People prying me away. Then everything blurred , I was at her funeral. Her parents were their.
Everything blurred and I was back at home. I thought I woke up. Until I realised my makeup was ruined. And I was wearing a black dress and I had thrown my shoes across my house and everything was destroyed. I opened my dialer to call her to see whether this was real. And I had called her over fifty times and no answer. Because her number was disconnected, dumbass.
I remember leaning against the couch. I remember how she said great people die great deaths. Her own saying went against her. Because.. a great person died a undeserved death. And she always called me a great person. But I'm..not. I never made anyone proud. She always was proud of me. But she isn't here to hold me back. She isn't. And I know I ain't a good person.
I went outside. And I didn't have a hand to hold me back. I ran into the busy road. And everything went black.
I wish I could've told her... "I loved you and I hope you knew that when it lasted."
I whispered one more time. I felt my body being lowered next to hers.
I saw her name engraved on the headstone, but beside that, my name lay engraved in another headstone.
I felt the cold wood. Then the pressure of soil building against it.