Disclaimer: I do not own the power ranger.
I knew I loved him since the moment I first saw him. I met Tommy eight years ago when Jason was competing in a karate match. Five years ago, we ran into each other in Sydney Australia. He told me that he forgave me for the letter that I sent him, and the reasons why I did it, no longer mattered to him. What mattered to him was that he never stopped loving me, and that he wanted us to be together. Which took me by surprise since I'm the one that gave the whole speech on you know that we just can't be together we're from two separate worlds and that I've met someone else, which I never did. I wrote him the letter because I didn't want him to pine away for me and I could see the way that him and Kat were getting closer, so it was my way of releasing him. When he said that he wanted to try again, all the reasons that I left didn't exist anymore. He came to sweep me off my feet, just like in the fairytales I read about when I was a child. With his words of love, I turned everything in my life upside down, but in the end it was worth it. If I had the chance I wouldn't change a thing. Tommy really was my white knight in shining armor.
We met when I was 16. I was young and some what naive, and he was anything but. Tommy was mature and so unlike the boys I was accustomed to dating, although it was apparent that he didn't have hardly any experience with love nor dating. Jason told me that Tommy figured that by telling himself over and over not to fall in love with me, that he wouldn't fall in love with me. I got a good laugh out of that one because when he fell it was so hard that I swear you could hear the smack of the sidewalk from miles away. He thought I was a way to bubbly and that I should be with someone who was the same way as me. He figured someone else could give me as much as I could give them, but he had already given me everything I'd ever want or need.
I was drawn to him like bees are drawn to flowers. I knew our relationship wasn't going to be easy, both of us being complete opposites of one another. Our relationship was happy yet sometimes very painful and even if I wanted to, I couldn't count the number of nights I cried over him, over us. I learned an important lesson that you can only truly be hurt by the one you love
The day came when it was time for me to leave for Florida to train for the pan globals. A few months later I had finally worked up enough courage to write the letter saying that it was over between us, telling him it was for the best and that I had met someone else. Every day since then I have regretted sending the letter and thought perhaps that he would come after me, but soon I began to lose hope in ever seeing him again. After a while I lost my innocence with that hope. And most importantly I lost him, though I never stopped loving him for he was my first love, and really my only love. No matter what I did, I could never really get him out of my thoughts, and most importantly out of my heart.
Three days after Tommy came back into my life we were married in Las Vegas. It wasn't the wedding I had dreamt about since my childhood, but it was our dream to be together. It didn't seem to matter that I was wearing a simple ivory dress and that only a handful of our closest friends were present at the ceremony. We loved each other so much and we had after all waited for what seemed like an eternity to finally be together forever. After the simple ceremony we went to dinner at the Stratosphere Tower with our wonderful friends. I sat on his lap throughout the whole dinner, afraid to part his side, for I feared that I'd lose him another time. I had lost him a few years ago, and I needed the physical contact to remind me that it was real, because I wasn't sure if I was really his wife. It felt like a wonderful dream that I would most certainty wake up from. I never did, for once my dreams came true. After all of this time waiting, I finally got to be the princess being swept away by her knight.
We honeymooned in Hawaii, taking in the scenery and going surfing. Something neither of us had ever tried before. Tommy seemed like a whole new person than when I left three years ago. I liked him better this way, for it brought us closer. I found out I loved his lopsided grin, and the way he got a mischievous look in his eye every time he did something he knew I wouldn't approve of. I loved everything about him.
One night I asked him what made him change so much during the time we were apart and he replied with the sweetest answer that I'll never forget. "We needed the time apart so that we could be where we are now. We needed to learn to rely more on ourselves rather than on each other. From the moment I said 'I do' to you I promised myself that I would do whatever it was to make you happy." Believe me; he made me very, very happy. He always knew exactly what to say and he made me feel like I was the most precious thing in the entire world. Sometimes I felt like I didn't deserve him or this happiness
He told me I came first, but his work came in as a close second. His work was very important to him. He was a hero, always trying to save people no matter what. He'd get calls to save the world at all hours of the day or night. Sometimes it got to where it was rather annoying. We would be in the middle of something very important and he'd have to go running off to save the day.
One night he got a call, which wasn't anything unusual. He got dressed quietly, and placed a soft kiss on my lips as he always did before he left. He always thought I was still asleep, but I never was. As soon as he left my side I was up. For the strangest reason I deepened the kiss that night, I just didn't want him to leave. I always hated it when he left me, but that night I just knew he shouldn't leave. I had a gut feeling that if he left nothing would ever be the same. If only I had trusted that gut feeling and found a way to make him stay, perhaps things would have turned out differently.
I'd always be worried sick about him even though he always left a note on his pillow, because he knew I worried and he didn't want me to. I loved waking up in his embrace, and if I knew he wasn't going to be beside me when I woke up, I wouldn't be able to sleep. That night was different. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was going to happen. I desperately tried to persuade him not to leave. I begged him to stay. I tugged on his arm, and I wouldn't let go. I told him what I felt, and he promised me he'd be careful. Unshed tears began to blur my vision and soon began trickling down cheek. I started screaming and grabbing handfuls of his shirt, trying to make him stay. I soon gave up as he held me as my body shook with sobs. I whispered the words "I love you" over and over into the crook of his neck. He pulled away and told me that he had to leave, and that even though he understood that I needed him, the world needed him as well.
I knew he would much rather be with me, but there were things he had to do and if he didn't do them, the world wouldn't be a safe place for us. I then looked up into his eyes and I said "good-bye". For we agreed when we got married we wouldn't ever say goodbye for when it is said it means for good, or at least for this lifetime. At that moment, I lost all hope in us, completely. As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them, I shouldn't have been so selfish. I should have been strong for him, because the moment I said goodbye he knew this was the end, and it scared him. The look in his eyes horrified me. I had never seen him that scared.
He searched my brown eyes for an explanation for my behavior, but all he found was fear. His eyes became an even darker shade, and he knew this was it. He knew he wouldn't be coming back to me in this lifetime, but that we'd meet again in another. I then brought my hand to his face. Feeling dampness I realized that he was crying too. I don't think he was afraid of dying. I knew that some part of him knew it was his time to go, that it was past his time and that he knew he was lucky to live long enough to fall in love. I think he was afraid of leaving me, afraid that I'd do something stupid after he left.
Too many people left me in my lifetime, and he promised me that he wasn't going anywhere. I believed him. I put my true feelings behind me and assured him that I would be okay without him and that I always would be his girl. I knew he could see through me, for he always could. He knew that I was only being strong for him or at least trying to be strong. We sat together for a moment; both sobbing and then I pulled his face towards mine and gave him a last kiss. Our foreheads touched as he whispered the single most beautiful word, "always," and then he was gone.
I cried so much that night I made myself sick. I ended up in the bathroom with my head over the toilet throwing up between sobs. I just couldn't stop crying no matter how hard I tried to. The next morning I received the phone call that brings chills, the one that people pray they never get. The guy on the other end of the line told me that Tommy was dead. This man told me he was sorry for my loss, but the way he said didn't sound sincere. He would never know the magnitude of my loss, no one really would. I knew he was already dead an hour after he left me, for I had felt his soul leave this world. Though to actually hear the words made it even more real, so there was no way I could convince myself this was a horrible dream and that when I woke he would be right next to me.
As soon as I was told, my knees went weak and the phone slipped out of my hand as the uncontrollable sobs started up again. I felt like I couldn't breathe, that the walls were closing in on me. I didn't want to live without him; he was my lover and best fried. How could I live without him? Whoever had called me to give me the bad news apparently contacted Jason, who came over and found me on the kitchen floor crying. He held me until my sobs quieted and I fell asleep and then finally carried me into my bedroom.
I didn't wake up until later that night; I could still smell his lingering scent on the sheets. I frantically got out of bed, and went to find him. When I couldn't find him, the realization hit me that he was never coming home, that I would never hear his voice or feel his touch upon my skin. It was all too much for me, and once more I broke down and sobbed.
The next day I started making arrangements for his funeral. He deserved the best good-bye, for he had saved the world countless times. I didn't let myself cry after that night on the kitchen floor until after the funeral. I knew that once I started I wouldn't be able to stop; I felt that I had to be strong, for myself and our friends. If they knew how much of a wreck I really was, they wouldn't leave me alone. I had to keep myself busy in order to keep my mind off him, although it didn't work very well. My thoughts are always about him.
At least 100 people showed up for his funeral to pay their respects. Most of them he met by saving their lives at some point. People I didn't even know came over to me and told me how sorry they were for my loss. I knew everyone there knew who I was, although I didn't know who they were. After the funeral was over I cringed inside because I didn't know what to do next. He was my life, my savior, my hero and if he wasn't in this world why should I be. He is a part of me and I didn't think it was possible to live without him. I broke down in tears on his grave site for the first time since the morning I got the phone call. I sat there sobbing until the first rays of morning appeared. If only my tears could build a stairway, and my memories were a lane, I'd walk right up to Heaven, and bring my beloved home again. Slowly getting up and wiping away the last of the tears I whispered as I walked away, "You move on now my beloved to the next world and I shall follow you soon, though my heart aches each day I wait to be with you again".
I refused to leave my house for the following two weeks. My friends would try and cheer me up and bribe me into getting out of the house, but I wasn't two years old, I couldn't be bribed. I soon became sick. I was throwing up constantly and I wasn't eating right, I had lost weight and wasn't getting enough sleep; I couldn't remember a night that I didn't wake up with nightmares reaching out for him, only to find he isn't there to comfort me. My friends were getting worried and forced me to see a doctor. At first I refused, saying that half of me was gone and that part of me didn't want to live, but the other part wanted me to keep going because that's what he would have wanted me to do. I finally agreed to go if they would stop bugging me. I got a call a few days after I went to the doctor asking me to come in to get the results of a blood test I had gotten done. The results were something I never would have expected. I was pregnant. I was a little over a month along
The doctor asked me if my husband would be proud. I replied with "he's dead" and then I started crying. I seemed to be doing a lot of that. I wasn't sure if they were happy tears or sad ones. I kept picturing Tommy's face if I had the chance to tell him. He would have been so happy. I didn't know if I could raise a child without him, if I would want to. The doctor looked at me, telling me that I had options. The only option I could live with was raising this baby, telling him stories of his father and how much his father loved him although they never had the chance to meet. Tommy left me with a part of him, the most precious gift and to this day I'm so happy for it. Little Tommy is almost three now. I named him after his father. I love him so much. He's a little replica of his father. He's got the same eyes, the exact same color and when he feels a strong emotion they tend to get darker, just like his father's. I can't look at Tommy and not think of his father. He's a painful reminder, but I wouldn't give him up for anything. Someone once told me to let the pain flow through your heart. And let the truth be told. You can't change the past, you can't change the future. So let the pain and memories be made unforgettable.
I try not to spoil him rotten, but he's so hard to resist. I now know how my father felt when I wanted something; he could never resist me either. Tommy got everything a three year-old boy could ever want a room full of toys, a loving mother and a handful of aunts and uncles that love him as much as I love him. But everything in the entire world couldn't make up for the loss of a father he never knew. He will never have a father, that's the one thing I can't give him. There's only one person that is his rightful father and even though I can hunt down a potential father for Tommy and marry this guy and have more babies with him, giving Tommy brother's and sisters, I wouldn't want to. There's only one man for me, and he's dead.
I keep imagining how my husband would react to how Tommy has grown. He's turning into a wonderful young boy. He's polite, he takes care of me, he makes up amazing games and pretends he's a super hero, he can build four feet tower's out of blocks, he can make the right choices, he eats his vegetables, he remembers people he has only seen once before for a few minutes, and the list goes on. It might seem silly, but I sometimes pretend that he's here with me, raising our little boy, taking him camping, teaching him how to play baseball and to become a respectful man. More than anything I wish my husband was here with us.
They say that it gets easier everyday after a loved one dies. It doesn't. For me it's harder, each day only makes his death more real. I cry out to him everyday. I don't let anyone see how hard it really is for me. I'm a good actress. I make it seem like I'm okay. I laugh and smile and hang out with my friends. I work full time and then go home and play with my son. They think I'm wonder-woman, they think that I can just forget my other half, but it is impossible. If I hadn't found out I was pregnant I would probably have done something incredibly stupid. I didn't have anything to live for. Tommy has brought so much into my life. He saved me. He's the only thing I have left in this world to really live for, but I will embrace the day that I will finally meet my white knight and be in his loving embrace once again. You see the thing is after you lose some one so special you truly die. The pain may ease a little and you may slip back in to your regular life but no matter what you do you can not come back to life.