Chemo

I could feel him looking at me staring out the window. Perhaps he likes the silhouette of the bandana over my head but my intuition tells me otherwise.

It has been 6 years since we got together, two since we said our vows.

It was a lovely little ceremony by the beach with family and close friends, just the way we have always wanted. His hair was a mess that day, just perfect. His black hair now brown from our little experiments. It was then, that day of ending spring that we vowed “in sickness and in health”, a vow of love as long as we last.

It was a little headache that brought me into this confinement that promises betterment but gives no hope. That promises a tomorrow but not the night. I do not like this place, neither does he.

They jabbed my skin with needles, filled my veins with liquids I cannot even name, my gut with pills I cannot count. They have. I am weaker than when I started. Is it supposed to work this way?

On my knees I am most of the time, face over the pot, flushing my gut out. I am tired. He used to hold my hair and  grip my shoulder until the day I had none left but a bandana in its place.

I can see in his eyes, when he helps me into the chair. When he reads to me or tells me everything is going to be okay. I can see he is worn out and can go no more, I can see he wants an escape to his freedom.

It was an afternoon of an uncertain air. I was on my chair, looking out the window. A tap on my shoulder and I look up to see a face I hadn’t before. In his hand he had a letter, addressed to “the love of my life”.

The content wasn’t as pretty as the address there was, he couldn’t do it no more, he didn’t want to. Tomorrow was to be my last session, my last. He bailed. A grip on my chest as I couldn’t breathe, the last I remember is the sound of my head on the ground, the legs of my chair.

It was blur, a bright light and a voice calling out my name. I head towards it and open my eyes, before it stood the magnificent of all view; a smile like no other. “You had fallen asleep. come on, you know we cannot miss today”he said with most cheerful of tones. For three years we were in this very room, three years of valentine’s day, anniversaries and birthdays. Three years of memory in this single room, we were to leave it today for something bigger; the entire world.

I gather up myself and head to the door. Following him as I always did, he is stronger now. Today’s the last and all will be okay, a possibility turned reality.

“Today is the last. We will be okay” I think to myself as I notice the bandana on his head was a little loose.I follow him as I always did, through the door towards the last.

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