There is nothing worse than drowning. I’ve been there. They barely managed to breathe life back into me. The question, however, is if I ever wanted to breathe again?
Nine seconds. It took me nine seconds to make contact with the cold, pinching water. Nine seconds and the bridge was a blur. Nine seconds and I was drowning. And all that was running threw my head as I bobbled in the frozen lake was your face before you were gone. Nine seconds more to be with you.
I remember when I crashed into your bike on the pavement. You screamed and screamed until I walked out of the car and gave you my number, told you to call me for damages and walked off. Oh, you called me all right. That, I believe was our first date.
You were so silly and I was so high strung. Polar opposites. I can’t recall a single day that we spent together where we didn’t end up arguing about either your dirty socks by the bed or my car in the driveway.
Do you remember that one time I fell off the swing and you laughed so much you had a mild asthma attack? Because I do. I can still hear your roaring laughter booming in the backyard. I can still hear you coughing for ten minutes straight afterwards.
You were a hideous cook. Burnt toast and sticky scrambled eggs. But I’d kill to have another one of your failed breakfast preparations than pour myself a bowl of your favourite cereal and eat across an empty table.
You kissed me for the first time in the supermarket. How will I ever forget that? I was buying cheese and you said “If you love cheese so much, I can be your daily supply.” And then when I giggled and the cashier glared at us, you kissed me for the very first time. I think a few people clapped.
I remember when you and I had our first fight, and then the first night. And I remember waiting in line the next morning for waffles. Ut was cold, pinching freezing cold, but nowhere as cold as this water.
I may or may not still laugh at how shocked you were when my friends hugged you. You did pull me out of a shell they’d been trying to pry open for a few years. They miss you. I know that because they hold me closer every time my eyes shut in broad daylight.
I hate doctors because of you. The news was..no. I’m not going to think of that. I’ll be with you soon enough. I won’t. You promised to stay but you lied. You were gone before we could go watch all the plays.
I’d be lying if I said I was shocked. You kissed me with such..fervour. It wasn’t an I-love-you kiss. It as a goodbye kiss. I’ve missed your eyes for thirteen months and I’m underwater right now and I can see your blue with those little grey streaks.
Nine years together, nine seconds more to see you again. But they didn’t let me. And I woke up in a hospital bed. And that same doctor, that same guy, he stood over me and knew. He just knew why I was in the lake.
He knew I had to see you.