Goodbye

I don’t know which was louder; the piercing beeps that represented her heartbeat or my staggered breathing. Her hand lay soft in mine, just as it had time and time again over the last year and a half. The difference was that when I squeezed, her delicate fingers did not squeeze back.

She lay before me, connected to several loud humming machines with all assortments of tubes and cords. Her eyes were closed, swollen and red, just as they had been for the last two days. Some people may have said that the sight of her was disturbing, or unsettling, but to me she was as beautiful as the day we met. Once again I leaned down and whispered her name, hoping with all my heart that she would do something- anything- to show that she could hear me! I knew she wouldn’t.

Brain dead. That’s what I’d been told.

I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t. How could a mind so beautiful- a mind that once crafted the most fantastic of paintings and poems that could tug at the strings of my heart- be dead? When I thought ‘dead’ I thought still, lifeless, old. Never in my life did I think that dead could be my best friend and love, at the age of eighteen, whose chest still rose and fell with each breath; whose hand held tight in mine still had warmth and a pulse.

No, I couldn’t believe that she was dead. That wouldn’t sink in for another twenty six days.

I always used to wonder what my last day would be like; if I knew I only had one day left. My last actions. My last words. Never once did it cross my mind that I would have to whisper to her my last goodbye before we had the chance to say ‘I do’ and grow old together.

And yet, there I was, staring down with a broken heart at the angel that not long ago patched it back together. I cried. I cried a lot. I cried like I never had before, with tears that simply leaked from my eyes like a faucet turned to high. I didn’t cry loudly though. I cried in whispers, mustering all the strength I had left after waiting two long days to hear the words ‘she didn’t make it’. I cried all the tears I had left to cry, and then I kept crying.

“I love you.”

My voice sounded foreign to my own ears, and I only wished that she could hear me. That she would open her eyes and whisper it back. But I knew she wouldn’t.

I squeezed her hand a little tighter. I kissed her forehead. I said goodbye, and I left a little piece of my heart for her- the piece I told her time and time again she had stolen from me- for it was hers and hers alone.

And then I started waiting for the nightmare to end.

I started waiting to be woken from my sleep with a tender kiss and her radiant, heart-warming smile.