trigger warning: sensitive content
Suddenly, I couldn't sleep.
My mind kept replaying what Warren had said a few hours ago. I know that River assured me that he didn't mean what he said but how could I be sure? They say that drunk words are sober thoughts, and pain makes people admit their feelings. It bothered me and it kept me awake.
Auden tried to get me to eat some more and I couldn't stomach the thought of it.
My eyes remained on that door.
Until it finally opened.
There was dead silence beside the occasional whir of the pump filling my veins. I stopped breathing as Warren stepped into the room. His appearance had changed drastically since he had left. He looked like he had gone through hell. I saw reddness in his cheeks where he had been continuously wiping away tears.
River stood. My gaze drifted to the movement. My oldest brother was as still as a statue but he must have read something nonverbally because his fists uncurled and he strolled to Warren's side. They exchanged words I could not hear.
River then glanced at Auden and nodded his head toward the door. I felt my heart skip a beat as Auden wordlessly left my side and both of them stepped out. The door quietly clicked shut and then it was only the two of us. Warren remained at a distance.
I hated the silence.
"I know that you're angry," I started quietly, fighting to reign in my own emotions that wanted to bubble up, "I know that you think I should continue, for the minuscule hope that I'll make it. I've been trying to understand why you said what you did but I need you to hear me when I say this..." I took a deep breath and met his dark eyes, "I am tired and I know that my battle is over. I feel it, nothing is going to work for me. I am not giving up but I am too tired to continue and I want you to understand that. Think what you want but this is the truth."
Every day since my diagnosis, I had been losing. I had just never wanted to admit it.
His silence drew cold prickles over my skin as he observed me. Only the motion of his jaw clenching gave me any indication that he was truly present, his eyes did not drift away as they so often did. Finally, he spoke. "So that's it?"
"Yes," I said, sucking in a shaky breath, and admitting that this was final. My decision could not be unmade. For some reason, when he said nothing more than those three words, I felt a horrid rush of emotion. Had he given up on me? Was he angry? Did he understand?
I dissolved with the stress of not knowing, and tears freely flowed down my cheeks. It was hard enough to admit that out loud but his silence was the true killer. I closed my eyes and pressed my face into my hands.
I couldn't bear to see if he was sick of me, if something akin to resentment rested on his features. I just hoped he would let me be in my misery and keep his hurtful words to himself when I was already hurting. He always stormed off when things got heavy. Imagine my surprise when he didn't.
Suddenly, I heard movement. A chair being pushed aside, the railing dropping, and then the weight of another body next to me. I nearly jumped when gentle hands grasped my forearms.
I glanced up with blurry vision and Warren was waging a battle with his own emotions. He didn't speak. He awkwardly wrapped my arms around his torso, almost as when we had ridden his motorcycle weeks ago. I accepted the unspoken attempt to provide comfort and latched onto him.
His arms slid around my trembling body as the sobs increased. He rested back against the pillows of my bed and I was completely rolled into his side. He didn't say anything for the duration of my emotional breakdown. I was keenly aware he would take deep breaths ever so often, and he would slightly shudder, as if fighting the same thing.
When I quieted, I simply listened to his heartbeat.
Then he spoke.
"I am so sorry."
"For what?" I asked, my voice spent from the war of emotions lately, but I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted to know if those words were true.
He took a deep breath. "I am sorry for getting angry with you and saying those awful things to you. I did not mean what I said, not a fucking word. I lost my cool and I didn't listen to what you needed to say. I didn't listen to what you couldn't say. I was trying to force you into a decision that you clearly didn't want and cannot sustain..." He broke off with a rough exhale. "I was just... well, I'm scared."
"Why would you be scared?"
"Scratch that, Aida, I'm fucking terrified."
"Why? You're going to be okay."
He scoffed, except this time it was hoarse and raw, and something entirely ugly when the ones you love cannot be there in the future. "You think I'm going to be fine when you're gone? Aida...that's--I'm--"
I lifted my head from his side when he choked on his words. For the first time in my life, I saw the fear in his eyes. I saw what grief stole from his soul. I watched a traitorous tear trail down his cheek and then I met his gaze once again. There were so many emotions there, powerfully raw and utterly heartbreaking. Everything he had felt thus far was escaping and it was ruining him.
My ruin was also his.
I reached up and wiped the tear away from his cheek and then I held my hand there. He tilted his head slightly, pressing into my hand for the briefest moment of vulnerability. "You're going to be okay, Warren, I promise," I chose to tell him once more.
"I won't," He croaked. His teary, unblinking gaze met mine, as the force of his words struck home. His exterior crumbled and I watched the boy who saw his mother die the same way surface. He needed someone to hold him. He had barely gotten through losing our mother and now the disease came for me, and I feared it would destroy him.
"You have to be," I cried. There was nothing I could do to make any of this better.
"I will never be okay. I watched you grow up, I played dolls with you even when I absolutely despised it, I taught you how to ride a bicycle for the first time, I looked after you when you scraped your knees or twisted your ankle on the trampoline, I beat up any kid who dared to bully you at school, I made fun of your dancing but you were always the best... I'm your older brother. I'm supposed to protect you from everything."
I never knew a heart could hurt like this. I could barely speak as I said, "You can't change what's happening to me. Please don't beat yourself up about it."
"How can I not? It took Mom, she went through the exact same thing. We should have gotten tests, you should have had yearly screenings... I should have seen this coming..." He broke off, hiccuping as a heartwrenching sob tore through him.
I held onto him tighter than ever. "Please don't cry, Warren, don't grieve."
"I can't... it hurts so fucking bad."
"I know and I'm sorry," I whispered, broken. His shoulders shook and caved with the weight of his emotion. He pressed his face into my neck and I held him through the darkest hour. He carried so much pain in his heart, it practically bled him dry. I cried for him, for the boy who never healed from his mother's death, and now his only sister facing the same fate.
Eventually, he heaved a breath. Enough to calm himself for a minute.
"Aida, you are my little sister and I don't think I ever told you but I've always been so fucking proud of you," He pressed a kiss to the crown of my forehead and I closed my eyes. I didn't want this moment to end. One I could finally share with him. Our inhales and exhales were perfectly out of sync, like the sway of grass in the breeze. Strong, and unspoken love was our harmony."I love you. So damn much."
In a heartbeat, I said, "I love you, too."
"And I know that you're tired. I hate that you are in so much pain and I won't force any more decisions for you. It was never my place," He exhaled, shakily, "It's the hardest thing I've ever tried to accept."
"Me too," I whispered. Because this wasn't like accepting a goodbye, there was no I'll see you later.
His emotions won once again and another suffocated sob broke free. It wasn't from me. No longer could he pretend to be strong for me because all of our armor had been stripped, and we were defeated. He cried for me, and it was not him holding me, but I was holding him.
It was difficult to accept things we couldn't change.
Even more so when you loved hard.
We might have been born with the same blood but we were siblings by choice. We chose to stay in each other's lives when we became adults and we chose to be there for each other through the tough times. We were but one phone call away, even when we were needed elsewhere. We might not have been the closest in our grief of losing mom in the past three years, but a sibling's love could not be severed by distance. Eventually, the tether grew taught and we were reunited.
Despite everything that had happened before my diagnosis, I had never truly realized that we were never promised tomorrow. We get so used to expecting there to be another day, more time, something beyond the present moment; and we forget.
We forget that all we have is today.
And only today.
☼ ☼ ☼
I'm killing myself.
Literally every word is suicide.