Inevitable

This night can almost accurately be described as a goodbye. Though, that's not at all what I want it to be. I want it to be just another one of those nights--the long ones, where we'd stay up and talk about nothing in particular. But we know what tomorrow brings -- we know why this is a goodbye. Tomorrow's only promise is another trial, another what will happen or will it work, and another seemingly long wait. My mind, already a nostalgic pit, craves to return back to those nights of ignorance. But tonight will never be just another night. We know it won't.

It's a goodbye. And I can't tell if it's for me or for him.

Tonight the rain provides a soothing ambience which I'm grateful for. The moonlight shines through the window, casting our only light as we lay curled up in our bed -- the bed which is soon to be just my own. We are both turned to face each other, laying on our sides as my hand tightly grasps his as if he will disappear right now.

It is a little warm in our room, especially given our blankets and close proximity, but a little heat will not stop us from being close. His cheeks are painted faintly with pink, his tired eyes closed, and his hair a little messy.

My eyes stay transfixed on him, scared he'll vanish right in front of me. I close my eyes and keep seeing the way he looked, only months ago, with his hair disheveled and this sleepy smile on his face. I keep feeling his breath against my face and his hands around my waist. I keep hearing his heartbeat, which was fast and loud near my ear -- he was nervous. I keep remembering him pulling me closer, whispering words that were only meant for me to hear. Marry me. And of course I said yes. But it was too late then -- it was too late and we didn't even know.

I open my eyes to look at him now, and find that he's already looking at me, his face concentrated on mine now, looking content, relaxed, sad - a plethora of emotions that I'm sure my face holds as well. I get this sudden feeling of forgetfulness. I don't want to forget how his skin feels underneath my fingertips or how he sang me to sleep, or pulled me close simply to whisper insignificant nothings in my ear. I most definitely couldn't bear to part with the memory of how he feels pressed to me at night; keeping me warm in this world full of cold and bitter consequences.

I don't know when the last time I see him will be. It may be tomorrow or next week. Would I have time to vault these things into my memory? I usually like randomness and spontaneity, but right now it is something I hate. At randomness, this boy will be taken away from me, and my greatest fear are the actions I can't control.

I know I can take a decent picture of him, (and he always looks good) but photographs won't hold me at night. They can't help me remember the way he kisses me, or pulls me close. They couldn't possibly capture the night he asked me to marry him, or how it felt to have him next to me. Photographs are nothing.

I find myself subconsciously reaching out to touch his face, my fingertips slowly sliding across his cheek. His eyes flutter closed, his face relaxing. I move my palm down his shoulder, which is bare but warm, and he releases a low breath - a short sigh. We rarely had nights in like this; we were always out and about. But things change just as the leaves. They're bright and happy one moment, then everything is dark, and the trees lose their leaves. It's that way between he and I, except he won't be back during the spring. He won't be back ever.

He opens his eyes and I can feel him staring directly into mine, but I find mine are anywhere but his. They roam over his lips, his slightly pink cheeks, then across his collarbones. My gaze brushes past his jaw, neck -- even his ears. I want to remember the way he looks right now; right before he'll be leaving. I need to burn this moment into my memory, where I'll be able to replay it there, over and over. I can imagine myself already at 3AM, playing this moment in a loop until it's nothing but a jumbled misconception.