4.
I finger the object in my pocket, debating whether or not I'm doing the right thing. What the hell am I talking about? Of course I'm doing the right thing. I've never been more certain of anything in my life. My love for Sydney is something so powerful that. . . well though it won't stop her from dying, it will, in its own way, overcome death in the end. I will always be with her and that is the one stable thing in my life that is holding everything else together.
When I close my eyes, I see her face. And it's the face that I have loved and lost; she doesn't have to be afraid that I'll forget what she used to be. How can anybody forget who Sydney was? Though it's hard to know and identify all the things that come together and make her who she is, I'm certain that once it all comes together, she is the only one that can fulfill them. She is the most amazing person I have ever known and I am not going to let her leave without letting her know how deeply I love with her.
She won't be alone when she dies. If she dies. Though I know that the chance of her surviving is a slim one, and even if she does she will never be the same, I still cannot get myself to let go of her. My hope is big enough to sustain us both. But that doesn't change what I'm about to do.
Whether or not she lives, nothing can change my mind anymore. Like I said, I have never been more certain of anything in my life.
I'm walking down the street; it's so familiar now. I've come down this path for the past two years and I recognize every crack in the sidewalk, every patch of discoloration in the grass. If I look up, I will immediately be able to identify which window is hers.
I walk through the double glass doors of the hospital and nod briefly at the nurse who, by now, recognizes my face. She also knows why I come everyday, who I come to see, and has thankfully stopped giving me appraising looks. I am not single. Even if I don't have Sydney, she has me.
The elevator is familiar to me too. Everything is. I sometimes think I spend more time in this place than in my own home. I probably do.
I am grateful that the CIA has allowed me to take a hiatus from my job without too many complaints. Though I think they let me more out of fear that I would sabotage the workplace than because they cared for my well- being. I push 13, the only number I've ever pushed in this godforsaken moving cubicle.
And then I'm here. In front of her door. I hesitate for I minute when I peek in the mini-window and see that she is sleeping. Should I wake her? If I do, she might feel the pain again. But if I don't. . . I have to do this now. I might never have another chance. It's always better to be safe than sorry. And I would be so sorry if she was taken away from me before I told her everything.
I am holding my item of purchase in my hand so tightly that I'm scared that I might've broken it. I don't even know how I managed to pay for it with cash. I don't usually carry so much on me. But then I remember. I had planned to stay at a hotel for a few days; my home held too many memories of Sydney even though she had never been inside. I had to get away. And leaving a paper trail is always risky.
But if everything went to plan, my house wouldn't seem so utterly lonely anymore. I opened the door softly and poked my head in. I walked over to her bed and carefully placed a hand on her arm. I hope to God that she will recognize me this time. I need her to recognize me. "Sydney, wake up. I have to talk to you."
Her eyes flutter open and focus on my face. She smiles weakly and I feel a relief so great that I sit on the bed next to her. "I'm sorry I woke you up." And I am. I am truly sorry for interrupting one of her moments of peace.
"Vaughn, what are you doing here? Weren't you here like an hour ago?" Her eyes are inquisitive and worried. I nearly smile. She is worried about me. Why does she care for me so much? What have I done to earn her love?
"I hadn't realized it had been an hour already. I was just walking around and I realized that there was something I had to do."
"What?" Her voice was noticeably softer and I suddenly thought that maybe I was doing the wrong thing. But I pushed the thoughts away. I had to be strong.
"I have to ask you something, Syd. You told me that you didn't want to be alone. . . that that was the reason why you were afraid to die. So I decided that the best way to remedy that is to make sure that you're not alone. I'm going to be with you wherever you go, Syd. And that's why I have to ask you this question."
TBC.
Review please~
I finger the object in my pocket, debating whether or not I'm doing the right thing. What the hell am I talking about? Of course I'm doing the right thing. I've never been more certain of anything in my life. My love for Sydney is something so powerful that. . . well though it won't stop her from dying, it will, in its own way, overcome death in the end. I will always be with her and that is the one stable thing in my life that is holding everything else together.
When I close my eyes, I see her face. And it's the face that I have loved and lost; she doesn't have to be afraid that I'll forget what she used to be. How can anybody forget who Sydney was? Though it's hard to know and identify all the things that come together and make her who she is, I'm certain that once it all comes together, she is the only one that can fulfill them. She is the most amazing person I have ever known and I am not going to let her leave without letting her know how deeply I love with her.
She won't be alone when she dies. If she dies. Though I know that the chance of her surviving is a slim one, and even if she does she will never be the same, I still cannot get myself to let go of her. My hope is big enough to sustain us both. But that doesn't change what I'm about to do.
Whether or not she lives, nothing can change my mind anymore. Like I said, I have never been more certain of anything in my life.
I'm walking down the street; it's so familiar now. I've come down this path for the past two years and I recognize every crack in the sidewalk, every patch of discoloration in the grass. If I look up, I will immediately be able to identify which window is hers.
I walk through the double glass doors of the hospital and nod briefly at the nurse who, by now, recognizes my face. She also knows why I come everyday, who I come to see, and has thankfully stopped giving me appraising looks. I am not single. Even if I don't have Sydney, she has me.
The elevator is familiar to me too. Everything is. I sometimes think I spend more time in this place than in my own home. I probably do.
I am grateful that the CIA has allowed me to take a hiatus from my job without too many complaints. Though I think they let me more out of fear that I would sabotage the workplace than because they cared for my well- being. I push 13, the only number I've ever pushed in this godforsaken moving cubicle.
And then I'm here. In front of her door. I hesitate for I minute when I peek in the mini-window and see that she is sleeping. Should I wake her? If I do, she might feel the pain again. But if I don't. . . I have to do this now. I might never have another chance. It's always better to be safe than sorry. And I would be so sorry if she was taken away from me before I told her everything.
I am holding my item of purchase in my hand so tightly that I'm scared that I might've broken it. I don't even know how I managed to pay for it with cash. I don't usually carry so much on me. But then I remember. I had planned to stay at a hotel for a few days; my home held too many memories of Sydney even though she had never been inside. I had to get away. And leaving a paper trail is always risky.
But if everything went to plan, my house wouldn't seem so utterly lonely anymore. I opened the door softly and poked my head in. I walked over to her bed and carefully placed a hand on her arm. I hope to God that she will recognize me this time. I need her to recognize me. "Sydney, wake up. I have to talk to you."
Her eyes flutter open and focus on my face. She smiles weakly and I feel a relief so great that I sit on the bed next to her. "I'm sorry I woke you up." And I am. I am truly sorry for interrupting one of her moments of peace.
"Vaughn, what are you doing here? Weren't you here like an hour ago?" Her eyes are inquisitive and worried. I nearly smile. She is worried about me. Why does she care for me so much? What have I done to earn her love?
"I hadn't realized it had been an hour already. I was just walking around and I realized that there was something I had to do."
"What?" Her voice was noticeably softer and I suddenly thought that maybe I was doing the wrong thing. But I pushed the thoughts away. I had to be strong.
"I have to ask you something, Syd. You told me that you didn't want to be alone. . . that that was the reason why you were afraid to die. So I decided that the best way to remedy that is to make sure that you're not alone. I'm going to be with you wherever you go, Syd. And that's why I have to ask you this question."
TBC.
Review please~