With Every Single Beat of My Heart

Nothing Breaks Like A Heart

This world can hurt you
It cuts you deep and leaves a scar
Things fall apart, 
but nothing breaks like a heart

Joe didn't expect to live as long as he had. His body had been trying and failing to kill him since he was just a child. Since before he was born. His mom would mention time and again how she always felt his heartbeat, even if the doctors had trouble every now and there. There were a few miscarriages scares, but his mom . . . she always knew he was there. She would tell him how hard she would press against her stomach until she felt it.

The little bump, bump, bump. His heart beat. She could feel it, even if nobody else did.

She would tell him this in hopes of raising his spirits whenever he was low. Truth was, Joe was born low. He knew from a very young age that his life was going to be short and difficult. He had cried over it back when he was a kid. Back when he used to dream of living his life and having a future.

There was so much he wanted to do. He wanted to write and direct. He used to show off to his tutors, make them read all his stories. He couldn't go to regular school. The stress was too much to handle so he was homeschooled. Every now and then someone from the outside would come and teach him, but it was mostly just his parents. They did everything for him.

And they were everything to him. For so long, it had just been the three of them. Joe was an only child and he didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Sometimes he wished they had other kids. That way when he died, they'd have other kids to focus on and wouldn't be alone.

The possibility of having more than one sick child crept into Joe's mind time and again. His heart was bad, but did that mean his siblings would have had the same fate? He didn't know. His parents had been healthy for most of his life, so it felt like his own illness came straight out of nowhere.

When his father got sick, everything changed for him. His dad had always been a staple for him, always been the person to stand by his side and force him into having even the slightest bit of hope.

Joe knew hope could be false and held onto that notion as he watched his father slowly drift away. It wasn't long after that he decided that whenever his body was ready, he would be ready. He felt terrible for it, but after so many long conversations with his mother, they knew it was something they'd have to face.

Joe didn't hold onto these false ideas that something magical was going to come along. He was a long way from a donor or a match, so he wasn't going to pretend like it was even a possibility anymore. And he begged his mom to do the same.

It was just them from that point on and he needed her to understand where he was coming from. He didn't want to die pretending like everything was okay. He wanted to be open and honest with his life.

His mother agreed. It was hard for her and it was hard for him as well, but she agrees anyway. No more playing pretend. No more acting like tomorrow couldn't be his last day. They were going to handle this like adults and thats how it was.

Joe wasn't sitting around waiting to die. No, he lived his life. He had a part time job, making little bits of pocket cash so he could pay for a few things. He didn't have many friends or really any. People at the hospital liked him well enough but they weren't really his friends. Most of them felt bad for him and the conversation carried on because it was something to do.

He volunteered at the very hospital that he was born in and nearly died in time and time again. He would sit with the older patients or read with the kids. His favorite thing to do would be to play the guitar for them. He knew how to play the bass but he didn't have one anymore. The hospital had an old acoustic with warn in strings but it still played well enough.