Silhouettes

    Our silhouettes danced in the flickering candlelight. Silence hung between us as she rested herself against my shoulder, her hands holding mine, and her eyes signaling a desperate want for answers.

    I knew it would only be proper, to tell her why I had tried to ‘disappear’ from her life, from everyone and everything. I looked up a bit in the faint light that the candle did provide. The bottle of pills that I had tried to ingest still sat in front of us, silently in its pristine white container promising to take away the pain forever.

    I gave a small sigh. It would be proper to explain, but then again, it be proper of me to not want to die. It be proper for me to not have been told I have only a couple months left for me to live, and it would seem proper that I could at least maybe decide how I would want to die which would be at age 80 and of old age. But I knew that was an unfair burden to place on her. I would have done the same, taking away the bottle of pills and forcing me to sit down and explain why I had the same suicide pills that she had caught me searching online months ago, and in the end, telling her that I wouldn’t ever buy it.

    Her delicate hands continued to hold mine as she took in a deep breath, “So, will you try it again.”

    I could only shake my head, not in a fashion of, ‘no I won’t’, but, ‘I don’t know.’ I continued, “What do you want me to say.”

    She paused a bit, “It’s unfair.”

    “I know. I’m the one who’s living it,” I half-bitingly replied, not in anger to her, but just to my own fate. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know what else to say.”

    “I know.”

    We both continued to just sit in silence a bit longer, this time, she pressed closer against me. I could smell the same jasmine shampoo scent that she always used when she showered.

    “You promised you’d keep fighting.”

    “Things are easier said than done. Especially when you have 2 months.”

    “You don’t know that for-”

    “I know,” I interrupted. “But when you wake up with pain everyday, when you have to go to the hospital every week or so, to make sure that you aren’t going to suddenly just pass away for the last year or so it gets to you.”

    She looked up at the wall. I followed her gaze. Our silhouettes seemed to almost intertwine, reflecting back to us 2 shadowy figures against the wall. Each of the figure was separate, separate in its own way from the other, yet at the same time connected.

    “Do you remember that song… Kiss it better?”

    I smiled a bit unconsciously, “Don’t tell me you want to have a make-out session right now.”

    “You wish,” her tone a bit teasing. “Maybe if you promise me not to try what you did today again.”

    I kept looking at the shadows in front of me. It be so easy to just scoot away, create a small sliver of light between us, separating the two shadows, but at the same time, I felt chained to her. A want to be with her. But at the same time, a monster continued to fester in my mind that I’d only burden her being a man who is basically with a foot in a grave. “I just wanted control. Control of my life. To stop being a burden-”

    “There you go again.. Burden my butt. You said I love you, I said it back. There is no burden. I accept you for everything. Remember the song again? You still didn’t answer my question.”

    “Yes.”

    She kissed me gently on the lips as she then transitioned to her usual singing voice. I always loved her voice. Her voice wasn’t extremely beautiful or anything of that manner, but it was a humble enchantment sort of feel. The kind of voice that doesn’t particularly stand out, yet at the same time draws you in to love it the more you listen to it.  

    Her voice wrapped around me as she sung the verse that she knew would affect me most, “Kiss it all better, I’m not ready to go, Stay with me until I fall asleep, Stay with me….”

    As her voice trailed off, I closed my eyes and rested my head back against the sofa behind us. “Okay, okay... I promise.” I extended my arms to draw her as close to me as possible. My eyes silently teared up. “I promise.”

    She hugged back, pushing herself as much as she could back into my arms, “I’ll be there till the end.”

    Our silhouettes danced in the flickering candle light. Two bodies now danced almost as if they were one, overlapped, one on top the other, each promising to share the other’s fate.

    The candle silently burnt out, leaving only the darkness behind.