It had been fifteen years, since he had seen Jack the last time, since he had felt him the last time, since he had heard his voice. The last time.
Now he was lying here, knowing what was about to happen, and thinking. His whole life had been a mistake, the only thing that had been right was Jack, and that was supposed to be wrong. But it wasn't. It hadn't been. Nothing had ever felt as right as kissing Jack, holding him, loving him.
He was old. He was tired. He knew what would come. But he didn't. He had no idea what was going to happen after it…
It scared him, so he still kept holding on to what was left of his life. But was there any left of his life? He hadn't seen his daughters in months, he hadn't talked to Alma in years and Jack… Jack was gone.
Ennis was dying, and he knew it.
Everything around him slowly started to disappear. It was getting darker and darker, till he had no idea how much time had passed. Was this it? Was this what dying felt like? He didn't feel anything. Shouldn't his life flash before his eyes? But then again… he had never felt really alive. The only moments he counted as living, was when he had been with Jack. He thought of their first night, of their 'fishing', of the time they had spent together. It hadn't been enough. It had never been enough. He had lost track of time completely now. It felt like falling asleep…
"Hey bud" No. He was dreaming. Or maybe… just dead. "Come on, open those eyes"
He did. He blinked. He closed them, just to open them again and stare at the face above him.
This couldn't be. He hadn't deserved this.
"Yeah well, I have no idea how to tell you this so…. I'm sorry bud, but you're dead"
Ennis looked around. The mountains surrounding him seemed familiar. He looked again. Of course they did. He had looked at them for so many times, but all these times, they had been on a small postcard, pinned on his closet. This was Brokeback Mountain.
He turned his head to look at the person who had spoken.
"No Jack. I'm more alive then I've ever been."
