OXYGEN

8 - Not Going

"You know, you're funny if you think I'm never going to see you again after this," Forrest remarked. "I'm not planning to just pretend all of this didn't happen. I told you that you matter to me. I'm going to make sure you don't forget that."

I didn't know what to feel. I didn't know what to think. It was ridiculously touching to hear him say it, but a new sort of apprehension gnawed at me. A part of me wanted to believe in what he was promising, but there was something holding me back. Maybe he would actually go through with what he was saying, but maybe it would only last for a little while.

If there was anything I learned during my lifetime, it was that things ended. Forever did not exist. Like everyone else, I lost what I never thought I would lose. From people to dreams, they all left me eventually.

When I didn't respond right away, Forrest continued to talk. "Okay, I know it's so easy to say that I'm here for you, but I actually mean it. I know what it's like to have people let me down and it sucks. I don't want to be like them; I don't want to let you down. But . . . I still know that it's possible. Maybe I will disappoint you somehow, but at least, I'm going to try not to."

"Besides," he added, "it would be stupid to think that just one conversation will help you. This is going to take time. I don't expect you to recover just like that, you know?"

"Wait," I interjected, furrowing my brows, "Do you see me as something to fix? Because let me just say: I'm not some broken object for you to put your hands on and attempt to repair."

"No, no, of course not," he cut in, "You're misunderstanding. The last thing I see you as is some broken object." He paused and let out a low sigh. "Man, June, okay, you have to listen to what I'm saying. First of all, I am not doing this out of pity. Not doing this because I feel obligated. And definitely not doing this because I want to fix you. I'm just doing this because you deserve someone to be here for you." His voice dropping, he leaned in a bit, like he didn't want anyone else to hear. "You just tried to end your life. I want to make sure that will never happen again. What kind of person would I be if I just moved on while I know you're struggling? I'm not going to just let you go – you have to let that sink in."

I swallowed, sensing more tears coming. I wanted to say something, but my throat tightened. I turned my head to the side, too slow to catch up with what was going on. Feelings flooded me, feelings hard to explain.

There was a person in front of me. A person who risked his life to salvage mine. A person who was willing enough to help keep me away from suicide's arms. He was someone I never thought existed and someone I would never be able to find again. He was here. Genuine and strong-minded and overwhelming. Fate seemed to be on my side for once because I knew this kind of thing never happened. I didn't understand why, out of the multitudes in need, I was the one to be here. But I did understand that after whatever was going to happen, I would never be the same.

"June?" I blinked at the sound of my name and looked at Forrest. I didn't even notice that he had gotten up. I examined his expression and felt a prickle of guilt. Immediately, I could tell that he was worn-out, but his patience didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon. Offering his hand, he told me, "I think it's time we get out of here."

I nodded slowly and reached out. Wrapping my fingers around his, I didn't feel any warmth. In fact, his hand was rather cold. Yet . . . comfort spread through my veins, melting any last trace of unease. It was the way he slightly tightened his grasp as he helped me stand. It was the way he faltered before he released. The touch lasted for a few seconds – in actuality, it was nothing – but the fast beat of my heart begged to differ. I had the strangest urge to take his hand again, but I didn't.