The room was filled with nothing but the sound of a continuous beep that resounded in my ears and pierced every nervous cell in my body. People were talking and walking around behind me, but it felt as if everything were numb. Even the smell of the place made my stomach churn with bitterness and remorse.
As I finally gathered enough courage to approach the steel cold chair beside that morbid piece of furniture embracing the person I cherish most, I had to use all the will within me to prevent myself from dashing right back out as if I hadn't seen, felt, heard or smelled anything. The doctor said I didn't have much time before his time was up, but I couldn't bring myself to move any quicker. The stillness of his body made me feel as if I were in slow motion put in slow motion. Even so, I knew I had to do or say something before it was too late.
His hand was ice cold when I intertwined our fingers together. I wanted so badly to break down and cry when there was no grip in return, not even a flinch. There was absolutely no response. He was dying and I knew that. I knew since the very beginning.
Why didn't I think his death might actually come? Why did I believe this was all some cruel joke by the gods and that this disease wasn't going to affect him at all? Now that it's here at last, I'm left baffled.
Clear tubes ran through him like one of those puzzle solvers that asks you which character is attached to which end. He looked like a robot in need of repair, like a science experiment in need of work. He looked broken. He looked like he was already dead.
My ring was still wrapped around his finger and it shimmered against the luminescent hospital light. When I gave it to him when he wasn't at a bad state yet, I had hoped it would bring some kind of luck or at least some kind of hope. However, upon being in this room with the time running past us, I started to hate the idea of such childish wishes and imaginative powers, especially that of healing.
"I love you…" I finally whispered with a crack not only in my voice, but in my heart and soul as well. I squeezed his hand tighter hoping he'd do something to show me that he heard me, but there was still nothing.
Weeks prior to this day I had speeches created and revised in my mind over and over again, memorized back to back, so that I would be prepared. I had all kinds of clever remarks that you'd hear in a movie or in one of those novels that teen girls fawn over. There were phrases like "I wish I could take your pain away" and "If I could heal with love, I'd kiss the wounds on your heart", but I knew that in this time and place, those words wouldn't be of much help or importance. All I could do as of right now in this moment was hold on to him and wait till he was forced to let go.
All the thoughts in my head were battling with one another and my head started to ache. If only Ike's heart could pound like my brain against my skull, maybe I'd have more time to figure out what it is I should do. The voices in my head soon came to an end as I heard the siren-like noise slowly fade away. At that moment, I got up from my seat, my hand still linked with his, and leaned over so I could kiss his forehead down to his nose and followed by his lips. Brushing the locks of hair back and away from his face, I rested my forehead atop of his and stared into his closed eyes. "…You'll always be a part of me, Ike." Suddenly, a tear slid down his face and I pulled away from him to wipe it off. I know I should've been sad, but I've never felt so joyous and ecstatic in my life and that was because I knew he heard me. "Don't cry…You're leaving this world loved. And I know you'll be watching over us, so this isn't goodbye. I'll see you every time I close my eyes and I'll see you scattered all over my mind because you're all I'm able to think about. And when it's my turn to go, we'll meet again."
Soon enough, the final beep was blown and it felt like it was never going to stop ringing in my ears. It was as if someone had thrown a grenade beside me and I was left to lie there in pain with a stinging sound replacing my sense of hearing. . The red line on the monitor just seemed to go on for miles without a care in the world. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to bash that machine down with my foot until it stopped operating.
I constantly wished it were I lying on that bed so I wouldn't have to continue the suffering after such a vast loss, but I knew he wouldn't have wanted that. He didn't want me to think like that even for a second even though it was already killing me to see him in so much pain. Of course I wouldn't want to die, but seeing him heave when he had trouble breathing was just too much to bear. I couldn't handle it. Sure I'm happy that he's no longer in agony, but now it was my turn to try and heal as I live with treacherous pain.
No longer will I be able to watch the way his chest raises and falls when he sleeps. I'll never again be able to admire the blue glow his skin holds when it's exposed to moonlight. I won't have that warmth beside me while I snuggle and breathe on the side of his neck while I try to sleep. All these little things—his smile, the way he eats apples, the way his eye twitches when he's sleepy—all his everyday actions, everything that I've fallen hopelessly in love with will no longer be with me. I took all these moments for granted because I expected there to be more, but like him, I need to let go too. So I did. My hand slipped away from his and I kissed his forehead one last time before I allowed them to take him away.
My heart was filled with emptiness. I felt alone even though my friends were there trying to comfort me. It was as if I had died alongside him and my body is just carelessly roaming around the surface of the earth. "…This isn't goodbye…" I said in a whisper so low it was almost mute. I knew Ike would still be beside me. I could nearly feel him hugging me from behind and telling me that things will get better. That he hopes one day I'll be loved by someone just as much as he loved me. That I'll continue to smile and have something or someone to live for. But for right now, I just wanted to sulk. I just wanted to rot away and bury myself in one of his sweaters and pretend he's coming home late or some dumb excuse that is preventing him from coming home.
It might've been the end for him, but it was the beginning for me, to get over him and learn how to heal.