Dear Aaron,

Page 19

Not long after, I realised how sick you were. Up until that point, it had really just been a lot of words to me. Until your heart stopped for forty-five seconds. It wasn't horribly life-threatening, considering your condition. But it was scary.

You told me that you couldn't realIy remember what had happened. I didn't tell you. Not then.

I was with you when it happened. We were playing Life. You were acting fine, I didn't think anything was wrong. But you hid a lot of things. You didn't like showing your sick, especially to me. All of a sudden, you dropped your game piece. It fell to the floor, then so did you.

I screamed.

They pulled me away from you.

I yelled your name.

They shoved me out the door.

Into the hallway.

I banged on a wall.

I cried.

I screamed.

It happened so slow.

It felt like forever.

They say when you're close to death, your life flashes before your eyes. You said that didn't happen to you, not that you could remember. But it did to me. I didn't see your life, or my life. I saw our life; only this time, it wasn't lots of fuzzy possibilities, it was crystal clear. I saw what it had been, what it could be.

I saw us meeting.

Our first date.

The first time you told me you loved me.

I saw us getting out of the hospital.

I saw us going to college together.

Us getting married.

Buying an apartment. Then a house.

We raised two boys.

Grew old together.

And I got to die first.

I didn't have to live without you.

That forty-five seconds lasted a lifetime. I wished it could have. It could have been our lifetime.

Instead, the images stopped flashing. Your heart still wasn't beating. Then it was. And for a moment, I allowed myself to be naive, to dream. I thought, in that moment, maybe we would have that life.

This is the first time I told you about that.

I stayed outside your room until they let me in. I asked you how you were doing. You told me better, now that I was there. You were slipping into a deep sleep. I had to ask,

"What was it like?"

It took a second for you to answer.

"I heard you scream. I heard... doctors. Then, it was... like... falling... asleep," deep breath.

You whispered the last part.

"Last thing I saw.... you".

At least, that's what I think you said. That's what I hoped you said.