<\/p>\n
There he is, sitting outside at the black table with the little green umbrella at our favorite coffee shop, Common Grounds. He is leaning back in the chair, his curly brown hair windblown, his shirt buttoned up only three-fourths of the way, so his chest hair peaks out, and his long legs are crossed. Michael\u2019s eyes are closed, and the sun hits his face so beautifully, magnifying every single one of his perfect features. He is perfect. He has always been perfect, inside, and out.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I walk up, pull out a chair and sit down. I smile the smile I hate, the one where my gums show, but he loves it, so I\u2019ve been learning to hate it less.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cHi,\u201d I sigh, reaching out and taking his hand that is all too familiar in mine. \u201cI\u2019ve missed you so much.\u201d I sigh, wiping away the single tear that escaped.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cHello, my love,\u201d he says, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand gently. He always calls me that. Never Ruby. Just my love.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve had such a long day,\u201d I squeeze his hand. \u201cYou don\u2019t know how good it feels to see you.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n He nods, \u201cI\u2019ve been here, all day, waiting for you.\u201d He looks at me lovingly, but I catch a flicker of something unfamiliar in his eyes, but I can\u2019t quite place it.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry to I have kept you waiting so long.\u201d With my free hand, I brush my hair behind my ear.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n We stare at each other for a long while, neither of us saying a thing. I take all of him in. The freckle in the center of his right cheek, his widow\u2019s peak, the course hair on his arm, the plumpness of his lips that I have kissed so many times before. I could look at him for an eternity.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n He clears his throat, breaking the silence. \u201cAre you ready to talk about it?\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I shift in my seat. \u201cCan\u2019t we talk about something else first?\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n He gives me a small smile. \u201cYou can\u2019t pull that on me this time. I know you too well. You will keep talking and by the time we could talk about it, you will have to go. We can\u2019t keep doing that my love.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Tears begin to fill my eyes. My throat burning, I choke out, \u201cBut I don\u2019t wanna talk about it.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I break down heaving sobs, my entire body shaking. I feel as if the air has escaped my lungs. I am drowning. I cannot breathe. I may die right here right now. But maybe that wouldn\u2019t be so bad.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cHey,\u201d he grips my face between his hands and forces me to stare into his pale green eyes. The eyes I want my children to have. Reassuringly he says, \u201cIt\u2019s going to be okay.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt won\u2019t be. Because we are going to talk, and you are going to leave and then I am never going to see you again and I can\u2019t let that happen. I can\u2019t. I can\u2019t. I can\u2019t. I need you. You can\u2019t leave me. You can\u2019t make me let you go.\u201d The words spill from my lips and I\u2019m so flustered, I barely know what I\u2019m saying.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n He pulls me into him and wraps his arms around me tightly. He smells like cinnamon. I breathe him in, and it calms me. He holds me until my sobs subside and when they do, he pulls away, wipes my damp cheeks, and kisses me on the forehead.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n When I look at him, I see tears beginning to form. Shakily, he whispers, \u201cI love you so much. You are the love of my life. You have my entire heart, and it will always be yours. But you can\u2019t keep me here forever. I can\u2019t rest and you won\u2019t find peace if you don\u2019t let me go.\u201d The tears overflow and fall onto his freckled cheeks.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I shake my head, angry that he expects me to do that so easily. \u201cLet you go? How am I supposed to let you go? You\u2019re my husband, the man who was supposed to be the father of my children, the person I was supposed to grow old with. Are you crazy? I can\u2019t just let you go.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBut you have to,\u201d he says softly. \u201cAnd I\u2019m sorry, but I won\u2019t give you kids. You won\u2019t watch me grow old. And we won\u2019t have the life we always dreamed of.\u201d He pauses, a sob erupting from his lips. \u201cAnd I\u2019m sorry. I\u2019m so sorry. I wish things could be different. But, my love,\u201d he heaves a big breath, \u201cI am exhausted. I can feel myself fading away day by day, minute by minute. But I stay here because you need me. But I don\u2019t know how much longer I can hold on, and I\u2019m scared of what will happen to me if I completely disappear. And that is why I am asking you for one last favor. Don\u2019t forget me, but please let me go.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The way he\u2019s looking at me right now, with those pleading, hurting eyes, makes me want to give in. His soul has always been so kind, so gentle, so giving. I love him and I should not deny him this one last wish. But, because I love him, I cannot. Because once he is gone, he will be gone for good. And I cannot bear the thought of that.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll see you tomorrow.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n I open my eyes to the grey dull that is reality. The world that lost all its color the moment he died. But in my dreams, there is color again. Life is beautiful once more, even if that life is not real. So, I cannot let him go. Not yet. Maybe not ever. It\u2019s selfish, I know. He deserves to rest, but he must understand that I am the one who must live without him, not the other way around. So, sue me if all I want is a little more time. That really is all I want. Just a little more time.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Abby Jamison There he is, sitting outside at the black table with the little green umbrella at our favorite coffee shop, Common Grounds. He is leaning back in the chair, his curly brown hair windblown, his shirt buttoned up only three-fourths of the way, so his chest hair peaks out, and his long legs are crossed. Michael\u2019s eyes are closed, and the sun hits his face so beautifully, magnifying every single one of his perfect features. He is perfect. He has always been perfect, inside, and out.\u00a0\u00a0 I walk up, pull out a chair and sit down. I smile…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":40,"featured_media":0,"parent":96,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-792","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/18-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/792","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/18-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/18-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/18-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/40"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/18-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=792"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/18-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/792\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":793,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/18-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/792\/revisions\/793"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/18-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/96"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/18-1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=792"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}