this might be the last imagine i'll write :((. i've just been very busy with school work since it is close to the end of the year. also, i've been having a few family problems so i just want to focus on making my life a tad better and easier. one last thing, i am just not inspired anymore, at least not when it comes to writing asa imagines. this has been my most viewed book and i appreciate it and love all of you guys so much. thank you for helping me become a better writer and more comfortable in it. thank you for not giving up on me when i first stared these with my horrible dialogue and grammar and simple sentences. i have greatly improved in my writing and it's honestly all thanks to you. thank you for giving me the opportunity to let out my thoughts and write down my imagination even if it's sorta weird and i can't tell anyone about me writing these because they'll call me weird. nonetheless, thank you. i love you guys so much and i will keep on writing here once in a while, but currently i am working on other stuff like a clay jensen fanfiction💛 much love guys and here is a little imagine.
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i grabbed my bags from the small apartment. he couldn't care less, obviously. that was just who he was - a self-centered guy with priorities that seemed useless, but that was just my opinion. he didn't care about anyone, but himself, not even someone who loved him and stood by his side when he was deep in despair and couldn't even tie his shoes. when he couldn't comb his hair back or get out of bed. when he didn't see the hope of seeing his family on last time before he left.
if you haven't figured it out already, he had cancer. i know right? the beautiful blue eyed boy had cancer? who could've guessed it. his life was perfect, his career was perfect, and he had the love of his life by his side, or so he thought.
he had me, but not his family. his family was heartless, just like he would become later on. they didn't care that he was on the verge of death because that family filled with blue eyes didn't care much, not about him, not about anyone. maybe one thing they did care for, money. we all know those families, the ones that are materialistic and couldn't care if the world ended in one minute as long as they had their big house and their blue mustang.
so during those years, i stayed by his. wishing, praying every night that he would get better and that he would heal. maybe that was crazy because not many people survived cancer, but it was worth a shot. all he wished was for his mother to come to the hospital one day and tell him how much she loved him, but she never did.
every night i stayed up staring at his pale and slim figure, his hair all long gone, and even there, i loved him. he had my heart like on one else and i desired to go back in time or maybe go to the future with my memories gone so that i wouldn't have to stay up all night thinking that he would die in my arms as i cried staring at the dark night sky in a winter season.
thankfully, all of my wishing had worked. every shooting star was a chance to wish and i did and it worked. he survived, a last long scar left on his stomach. that always hunted him because it was a reminder that you could never erase. i didn't have a scar, but i remembered. i didn't need a scar because i stayed up all night and all morning seeing his hair fall as the days went by and that hurt the most.
he didn't care though. he didn't care about the tears that streamed down my face those few years. the caressing his cheek as he became dizzy were useless because he didn't care. it didn't matter to him that i hurt during that time because now he was good.
and of course, he didn't need me anymore. he didn't need the support i gave him anymore. i never thought of it, really, that he would leave me. i thought i knew him, who he was on the inside, but then again, people can't let all their secrets out into the world.
the next thing i knew, he became the cold hearted guy he was now. his eyes didn't hold the warm blue anymore, which didn't make sense because blue stands for icy. but of course, he was icy, as icy as it could get.
he threw me out night by night, not daring to look me straight in the eye. i don't know if he was embarrassed or simply being him, his true self.
and this night was the night i had enough. i didn't care about his silent cries at one in the morning because he didn't care about mine at two in the morning. i didn't care about his scar in his stomach which he looked at gravely because he didn't care about the scar i had in my heart which we both saw from the glistening in my brown eyes.
i didn't care if he was hurt because he had hurt me more. i knew it would be nice of me to stay by his side, but i knew i had to do what was best for me and this was best for me.
so i walked out the white door into the cold winter night, which reminded me of the day i first found him crying in his hospital bed as his death date was close by.
december thirty-one, a day before our five year anniversary, but of course, the blue eyed boy survived.
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