ENTRY #8
SWEETHEART
His breath stuttered, coughing and pulling at his oxygen mask, "I have loved you in this life and will in the next."
I replaced his mask gently, holding my hand against his cheek. It won't be long now until he takes his last breath. Torn between wanting to shake him and shouting 'fight harder' and wanting this to be over so he is no longer in pain.
"I love you too, always."
Valentine's Day ten years ago was our first date, our first kiss and our first everything. Seems kind of poignant that Valentine's Day will be the last of everything too.
Skin now has a waxy feel to it, and his breathing erratic, shallow at best. There is a rattle following the rapid movements in his chest. I climb upon the bed and hold him in my arms.
"It's okay, I'll be okay. I mean it's shit but you don't have to worry any more." The tears fall freely now.
"Look after my heart, I'm leaving it with you." He croaks between breaths.
"Always."
Then, as if in slow motion, it's over. There is a bizarre calm while surrounded by beeping machines. Doctors and nurses come and call the time. It is done.
I hold him in my arms until I can't anymore. He is no longer in this body. It has been battered and beaten by all of the treatments. It is barely even a shell of what it once was. All our hopes and dreams died in that moment when the doctor confirmed there was nothing left to do. We have planned for his funeral, worked our way through the bucket list and spent hours curled up saying everything we wanted the other to know. It doesn't matter how much time we had it was never going to be enough.
My heart will go on and I will fight hard for the future we dreamed of. He leaves this life with the knowledge that while our time together was cut short, part of him will live on in my memories.
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