It was supposed to be an easy day.
You were supposed to pick me up from work, exactly like normal. We were supposed to go skating, just like normal.
We would hold each other's hands and swing our arms as we walked the 14 minute walk from the tattered old record store on the corner of the block to Our skate park.
The same one ever since the first day, ever since June 23, 2022.
It was December 31, 2024.
The same one that I would sit on the ramps while my feet swing back and forth, my heart beating 20 times faster than it should as I watched you flip off flights of stairs and slide on the rails. Then you would look towards me every time you land a trick, smiling with the tips of your mouths reaching your ears as you exclaim loudly in praise at your actions.
You would run over to me, and I would watch with a pang of strong pride in my heart as I followed you with my eyes. I would jump up and high five you with both hands and laugh the same laugh as yours, my eyes wrinkling and turning into soft crescent moons as I look up towards you.
You looked so happy.
I was so happy.
We would have spent the rest of the day at our skate park, then paid a visit to our favorite mom and pa sushi restaurant. The old Japanese couple would smile at us as we goof around in the booth and steal each other's nigiri pieces while spilling soy sauce blots on the table from how much we were laughing. They would quietly slide over a plate of each of our favorite hand rolls, refusing to put it onto our tab when we pester them when we pay.
Then we would leave a 40 dollar tip, hiding the 2 twenty dollar bills underneath our plates before we get up and you would wink at the old lady when we walk out the door, and I would smile at the old man with twinkling eyes and we would watch through the windows as they found our 40 dollars and laughed out loud while reminiscing on when they were our age.
It was supposed to be a good day.
After dinner we would go to your house and your small little black dog, Chloe, would run in circles as she chased her own tail when she saw us. She would bark and bark and bark and bark until I picked her up and let her lick up every inch of my face as you stood there and took pictures and videos, cracking jokes to keep me laughing as dog saliva was smothered all over my face.
I would hand Chloe over to your little sister, rolling my eyes at her laughter when she saw the state of my face. I would walk over to the downstairs bathroom, hidden to the left of the staircase, and would splash my face with cold water as I washed all the dog saliva off of my face.
Then you would come with me.
You would sneak up behind me, snaking your thin but strong arms across my waist and hiding your face in the little corner where my neck meets my collarbone. I would laugh when I looked into the mirror at your hunched over frame because of our 8 inch height difference and you would laugh too, in response to mine. Then we would just stand there, you in my embrace and me in yours, laughing together.
Since when did I laugh so much?
Since when did you?
I grab your arms around my waist and I hold onto them, lightly squeezing, giving myself the assurance that you’re really there, behind me. You would tighten your hold too, and I would push you away because I couldn’t breathe anymore.
I loved those moments.
You led me out of the bathroom with our hands together, and we raced up to your room on the third floor. Your 2nd floor was just a large loft living area, with a large couch that looked like a cloud that your sister was laying on and a movie screen that was playing Mean Girls.
I would wave at your sister as I ran past, and I could hear her laugh in response to my erratic, rushed wave. I arrived first in your room, winning the race, and would plop down onto your king sized, fluffy bed and curl up to the large pineapple plushie that you won for me but kept at your house because it reminded you of me.
You would enter the room after me, and I would watch you from behind my hands that covered my face from my curled up position on the bed and I would laugh at your messy brown hair that fluffed up in every direction from the run up.
You would come onto the bed behind me, sitting up with your back against the backboard and I would maneuver myself so that I was laying on you. You became my backboard.
You were so comfortable. I could feel every single bone of your body, but still you were so comfortable.
I can’t recall perfectly how long we stayed there like that, you leaning on the headboard of your bed and me leaning on you, your arms around as I curl up in your lap, letting the stress of the day leak out.
I remember looking up at your face and choosing to ignore the heavy dark circles that surround your eyes, or the paleness of your skin and how your eyes were tinted red. I ignored your sunken cheeks and the hollowness of your gaze.
I saw the indigo blue eyes that had captured my attention the first ever time I saw it, the fluffy brown hair that you would love me running my hands through. I saw your smiles, even when they were impossible to bring up to the surface.
I knew I shouldn’t have hoped it would be a good day.
We’ve been planning this for years now.
Maybe I got my hopes up. It’s okay.
I looked into your broken gaze and watched the lone tear slowly slip down your cheek. I wiped it away and sat up, so that I was sitting face to face with you.
I put your face into my hands, your small, thin, exhausted face and laid down the last kisses I would ever give you.
I kissed each of your eyes, your nose, your cheeks.
You started crying. It didn’t bother me.
I kissed your tears away as you quietly cried. It wasn’t sobbing, or wailing, or screaming. You just had silent tears slipping from your eyes, as if you lost control of them. It’s okay, I wiped them away.
I let you cry in my arms for a while.
It’s a secret, but I cried too.
Finally, I pushed your hair back away from your teary, red blotched, hollow face and looked at you right in your murky, dark blue eyes.
Together, the grey and blue of our eyes mixed and I felt the exact moment that we both accepted that today was not a good day. That it was not an easy day.
You whispered to me then, the softest voice I ever heard you use.
“I love you, please don’t come with me.”
I couldn’t help but tear up again. I’m sorry.
I turned away then, I couldn’t help it. I stood up from the bed and went to your desk, and opened the drawer on the right bottom cabinet, and saw the bottle. The orange bottle filled with little white pills.
That was the first time in my life that I can ever remember holding so much hatred for a color. The color orange didn’t do anything wrong, it definitely wasn’t its fault, but I couldn’t help but want to suck all of the color and all of the contents out of that small bottle.
I let a few tears slip, making sure I made no noise. I couldn’t bring myself to look back at you.
I wiped my tears away before grabbing the orange bottle and the cup of water on your desk and turning back to you on your bed.
I brought it to bed and climbed in again, and you made room next to you for me to curl into you.
I accepted and for the last time, cuddled up to your warm body.
I let myself get trapped in the pure, peaceful comfort of it all.
Just us. It was just us.
Me in your arms and you in mine.
You rubbed my arms and I knew it was time. I handed you the orange bottle of pills and held onto the cup of water with trembling hands.
I looked at you and I couldn’t hide the moisture in my eyes as you took the cup of water from my hands and wrapped your free hand around my own.
You looked into my eyes and ran your hand through my hair.
“I can’t stay any longer,” You said.
I nodded. Words wouldn’t form.
“Don’t watch me.”
I shook my head. I wouldn’t leave you alone. Tears flooded out of my eyes and I lost my grasp of control again as I shook my head in refusal.
I would not leave you alone. Not now, not ever.
I reached out and pulled you into my arms for the very last time, holding onto the last small whiff of your scent and our last embrace for as long as I could.
I pulled back and you watched me nod before nodding back.
You spilled the pills all out into your hand, and threw them into your mouth, gulping it all down with water. I let out a sob then.
You looked at me for the last time, with your warmest eyes, and held onto my hands as tight as you could.
“I love you, you’re my everything, my world, my stars.”
I let you say it all, I let you do everything. I sat there and cried with my eyes shut as tight as I could while you seized and frothed at the mouth, frozen in grief.
Only after your hand in mine had gone cold and your eyes closed did I move.
I walked out of your room, a blank expression on my face and quiet tears streaming down my face.
I didn’t wipe them away. I couldn’t bring myself to.
Your mom and sister met me on the 2nd floor, sitting on the couch together.
I couldn't face them.
Your sister walked up to me and gave me a hug. She hugged me like you.
“He beat it, Kaylee, he did it. He beat Fatal Familial Insomnia before it could beat him.”
I cried.
Your mom walked up to me and held my hand as she and your sister led me to the couch with them.
Your mom had a similar voice to yours.
The last thing I remember from that day was your moms voice. Or was it yours?
“He beat the disease that beat my father, my grandfather, and every other man in my family. I win. You helped him win. I love you so much.”