Everything about you and about this situation was like running up a hill. Running up that hill, reaching for something, anything, to grasp on to and hold on for dear life. Ever since that moment when I searched your face for a glimpse of happiness, any sign of life left in you and you just sat there, shuddering in the dim light, gasping for sweet breath as if you had just run a mile up a hill; which is exactly how I was feeling then, too, but for completely different reasons. No, it wasn't because I was worried where our next destination was, this whole trip an entire mystery, almost too hard to comprehend. Or even the fact that I had just possibly injected death into my forearm, my pulse throbbing, beating slowly, oh so slowly, because that's what that robotic, heartless thing had commanded me to do. No, it wasn't any of that, at all. It was because when you talked about your son, your eyes lighting up at the thought of his very face, the smallest of small smiles creeping onto your lips, it made me admire you. Admire the fact you could love your son so much, something my father had never shown toward me. And that is when it happened, my breath catching in my throat, my heart rate picking up considering it wasn't supposed to: that is when I fell in love with you. I honestly hadn't known this very fact at the time probably because my eyes were slowly closing, the drug taking over the physical and mental part of my body. But before we both drifted off into a much needed rest, I whispered something, ever so softly, in hopes that you would(n't) hear the words. "I'm not…I'm not going to leave you."
I remembered that promise despite me being in a stupor state in that moment. And as I was pulling off the guard's clothes, pulling the warm fabric over my body hastily, knowing I had a duty at hand, there were many probable reasons I was about to attempt such craziness, not sure where to start or how to end. I could have been doing it to impress my dad, once and for all, but he was far away from my thoughts at the time. Or it could have been because I owed my brother this, just this one night, in order to pay off all the debts during our youth which was not surprisingly part of the reason why I was doing this. The most probable reason would be to save all the innocent lives that were at stake, but I knew it was because I made a promise to you. And because, even after such a short amount of time, only fleeting moments and passing glances between you and me, I loved you with ever fiber in my being. I could feel that passion burning within me as I ran down the hallway, my feet pounding beneath me in perfect rhythm with my heart. Adrenaline and this crazy yet wonderful thing I felt towards you being my only motivation.
I flew into the room, guards only a few paces behind me. That is when my mind went blank, not quite sure what I was supposed to do now that I was at my destination. My eyes gazed the room and that's when, finally, I caught your figure frantically moving and pushing its way toward the person you loved the most in the world: your beloved son. And that is when all sense left me, yet came back to me at the very same time. My hand found the gun easily, raising it in the air, and even more easily found the trigger. One shot. I shut my eyes, tight, my eyes not wanting to witness the chaos around me. Second shot. I grew bolder then, standing up on a platform, knowing this was for you. For your son. Around the third and the fourth, I felt my heart soar, from both excitement and fear, but mostly coming from the thought of being with you, forever. Don't ask me why that entered into my mind among all the havoc, practically ignoring the people screaming in terror. I'm a messed up man, all right? You made me this way. You made strive to run up that hill; to take a chance. That's when I felt something strike me suddenly, the air rushing out of me, me trying to gasp for more, just the way it happened when children came up from under the water, releasing air yet desiring more at the exact same time. Two more followed, one smacking into my shoulder blade and the next hitting the back of my arm, a sickening slap following. The sound the gun shots left rang in my ears as I collapsed to the floor, finally giving in. The feeling of weakness and yet feeling calm is a strange combination. It usually happens when you know you have tried your best, mustering all the strength within you, but then you just have to give up, peace enrapturing your body with its warm, comforting seal. My eyes started to flutter, giving into such peace, thinking I was truly going to die. And strangely enough, this fact didn't frighten me. In fact, it gave me the hint of strength I needed to gaze up at you, our eyes locking, for the last time, I believed. Yours were glazed with fright and concern and compassion all at once. And mine, well, they were fogged now, my vision blurring. Hopefully, you can fill in the blanks there because I have no idea how they looked right then. But I do know what my lips desperately wanted to utter. I'll still be here for you, even when I'm gone, my mind was able to conger up, but my mouth failed to do so. And that's when I allowed myself to drift away, the possibility of living or dying still a mystery to me like some many other things.
Now, here I am, at your amazing son's birthday party, my eyes finally open again, searching yours. They are filled with appreciation and wonderment, and yet there is some other noun twinkled in those hazy blue eyes of yours.
"Thank-you," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
"You're welcome," I manage to form those two words upon my lips because even just saying one word around you took my breath away.
You lean in, hesitating for only a moment, but I stay were I am, wondering what exactly is happening. At first, when you lean in, I think you are going to kiss me full on the lips. But when those soft, plump lips land on my cheek I don't think I would ask for it to happen any other way.
You step back, your eyes boring into mine. "I'm glad you're here."
And that's when I knew you loved me too, the words not having to be said, because that's just how we worked. "Me too."
And so, I am still running up that hill, but in a completely different way. Now, you are by my side, panting for pure breath just like I am. But we both know what we have can tear down any obstacle in our path. So, as I take your hand, we start running up that hill, looking toward the future, toward whatever mysterious experiences lay ahead of us. But Lord knows it better not be a mental computer again.