John’s hands are shaking as he hands me the pills.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispers. His breath is warm, and tickles my ear. I don’t laugh.

No, I’m not sure. 

I take the pills anyway. My hands are surprisingly steady. I stare at them until they blur and become indistinguishable from one another. I tilt my head back and force myself to swallow. I avoid John’s eyes the entire time, only allowing myself to look at him after a few seconds pass. I can tell that he is trying to suppress his tears. 

I manage a weak, thin smile, “Hey, don’t look like that! I’ll be out of your hair in no time; you’ll never have to worry about me switching the lights off before we leave the house again!”

“When you’re gone,” his voice croaked, “There won’t be any lights to worry about. Everything will be black, like my heart.”

I shake my head. Oh, John. Poor, beautiful, romantic, generically poetic John. How did I ever live my life without him? I think back and try to remember a time when he wasn’t by my side. I can’t. He’s managed to slither into every one of my memories.

We were supposed to be together forever.

and ever

ann evr

an erar

a rar

ar

My thoughts are muddled. This is it. It’s almost over.

Someone is pinching my side. John. I hear words. John. I roll my head towards his general direction. More words. My eyes must have been distant; he sounded scared, like I was already gone. 

“Dunluk awa. Ah lurvoo.”

No, those words aren’t right. It took every ounce of my strength to say them correctly.

“Don’t look away, please. I love you.”

I hear a sob escape John. He is crying now. I’ve never told him that I loved him before. Suddenly I feel something soft on my lips. He’s kissing me, but I can’t kiss him back. 

I love you.

I love oo

Ill uvoo

Illoo

I

(nothing)