It began with little things. The faint taste of blood in the back of my throat after dinner that never quite went away. You wouldn't have understood. You're never sick.

I missed you the first time I threw up. I remembered you holding me when I was pregnant with Caitlin. How apologetic you were when the doctor explained some women never feel better and it seemed like I was one of them. I had to hold my own hair back away from my face and I missed you desperately in that simple moment.

Funny isn't it? How the tiny moments in my memory grow so clear. I sometimes let myself wonder how the end would have come if you didn't appear to me that night. Where would I be now? Would there be machines beeping around me? Sean and Caitlin crying at home because they were too afraid to sit at my bedside. Would I be alone?

You kiss my forehead and whisper that you're going to open the curtains. I close my eyes and roll away from the light. My eyelids don't provide much protection from it anymore, even when they're shut tight. You apologize, but promise it's a beautiful morning.

I laugh. "It's probably afternoon already."

You shrug, you don't wear your watch anymore. I asked you about it once, but you smiled and said you traded it for something more useful. You settle down on the bed, pulling the sheets neat before you sit down next to me.

"It's morning for you Liv."

For me. Everything we do revolves around me now, doesn't it? I sleep and you watch me from that chair in the corner. Today the sketch pad is balanced on the arm. Were you drawing before you decided to wake me? You won't let me see what you draw. You smile, kiss my cheek and promise someday.

Do I need to remind you that someday might have to be tomorrow because so few days are left?

You don't seem to mind. Your smile is slow, deliberate, and patient with quiet confidence. "Eat, then you can get up." You make it sound simple.

You hold up the spoon and part my lips with the gentlest of fingers. I give in. the fruit is sweet and wet with juice. It runs down my throat like light in a cave. I swallow because it's the easy part. Food still tastes like it did once. Eating, drinking- those quiet pleasures of life. This part is all right. it's only later that it kills me. I trust you, but I can't help wondering why you're doing this to me. You know as well as I do that as soon as this hits my stomach, I'll wish I were dead.

You've held me when the pain comes and I'm crying too hard to breathe. You've seen the blood on my lips, and helped me wash it out of my throat. But I trust you when you sit me up and help me to take another bite. You know what you're doing.

"Where are we going?" I wonder after the fruit is mostly gone.

You stoke my hair back, looking at it sadly when you remember the day you had to cut it short. It's just a halo of dark curls, no more cascade down my back that you loved so much. You cried that night when you climbed into bed with me. It had to be done, you said. It was too heavy. I couldn't lift my head anymore. I wasn't supposed to know you cried. You expected me to sleep through it.

"Out to the shore. The water's beautiful today." You lift me up, removing the pale pink nightgown with the gentlest hands. You let me wrap my hands around your neck. Keeps me sitting up as you pull my white dress over my head.

"This is a real dress." I tease as you slip it down over my chest. "I haven't had a real dress in quite some time." It flutters to the bed and you kiss me. Not the tentative little kisses we've shared lately, but a real kiss. The kind that makes me lightheaded.

"It's a special occasion."

You scoop me up, cradling me in your arms as we head outside. You hold my head close to your chest, keeping me right next to your heart as you head down the stairs. You must have left the door open before you came upstairs because it's open to the deck and the stairs to the water. But we don't go down the front. You take me out into the woods and the misty darkness that precedes the afternoon. I can hear everything in the forest around us. The birds, the dripping water, even the insects.

It's all so alive. "Do you hear that?"

You nod and pause a moment to tuck my hands into my lap. "I told you it was a good day to go outside."

The sun's starting to get low over the ocean. It's so still compared to the trees we walked through to get here. You slow down, setting me down on the warm rock. You take the time to arrange my hands, fluff the hem of my dress around my ankles.

I smile, suddenly more exhausted than I've ever been. "What are you doing?"

You kiss my hands as you settle them down on the rock. "Making a picture."

I watch you settle down onto the rocks a few feet away. You pull up that sketch book. The one I'm never allowed to look at. "I want to remember you like this."

I twitch my fingers lazily in the gently fading sunlight. "Can I see it?"

You look up from your work, fingers dark with charcoal dust. There's a tear on your cheek, but you let it fall onto the page. "Of course Liv. The moment I'm done." Your voice catches in your throat, the way it only does when you talk to me.

"It's going to be beautiful." You smile and the sunlight glints off your eyes. "It's you."

- finis-