My Whole World

June 6, 2011
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"Oh look at that lavender blond! I think that’s who they used as a model for Barbie."
"But what about that one? She looks like a cat." She laughed as she commented on 'cat lady', both of us sitting on a bench at the mall. Every Saturday we sat and people watched. It was one of her favorite hobbies. It was also her way of 'getting back at society'. She used to get mad when people bugged her about the sudden disappearance of her lovely, long brown hair.

"Hey, it's not my fault. It's called cancer, ever heard of it?" She would snap at those kind people, even the children she cared for. She was always like that during her bout with chronic depression. They don't know she was planning on killing herself and they never will.
Because I'm damn good at keeping secrets.
I wouldn't want the others to pity her even more than they already did. She also preferred to not see a therapist anytime soon. I don’t know why, but I've learned not to ask a long time ago. She got better, and that's what matters. Now she was back to being her sarcastic and slightly negative self.

"Nick, am I gonna die today?" She randomly blurted out, like she did every day.

I proceed to wrap my arms around her, responding with a strong "No f***ing way am I gonna let that happen little missy…"

Whenever I say that it makes her momentarily happy, but I'd say anything to bring that smile back to her face, to hear her little giggles. I would not only say, but do anything to make the troubles go away, the same troubles that caged her lovely, happy, bubbly self. She was and will always be like the little sister I never got the chance to have, my own twin, my gaming buddy; it's just how my life went on. It’s been going on like that since she moved next to me when we were six. It kept going on like that even when she moved to the other side of town. We would both get on our bikes and travel halfway, about 2 miles, to where my Grandma’s house is. Grandma has done a very good job of keeping our secret; my parents still think that I went to the skate park all this time and her parents think she went to the mall and just wasn’t interested in buying anything.
To say the least, we both thought our parents were stupid.

We could never hang out during the school day though, it’s totally taboo to have a best friend of the opposite sex when you’re under the age of 11, but when you’re over 11 they’re just mistaken for your boyfriend or girlfriend. Everybody thought we were a couple in middle school, but we didn’t care. We merely corrected them and moved on, I’m sure it didn’t help that I was always a tad overprotective of her, as she was to me. But we were still able to keep correcting people’s wrong assumptions and by the time we were eighth graders it was clear that we both were not in a relationship.
Although, I kind of wanted one with her.

I never told her how I really felt until just a few months after we both became tenth graders, on her sixteenth birthday.

“Nick, why haven’t I ever been asked out? Is it me? Or are men just chicken?” She asked, eating small spoonfuls of ice cream.

“They’re not chicken, they just know that you’re too good for them.” I laughed a little, watching her eat with those slightly pouted lips.

“Are you a chicken Nick?”

“Uh, no? Why do you ask?”

And that’s when it happened. She laid her lips lined with French vanilla flavored ice cream on my own. I never thought once that it was just the ice cream that made the kiss taste so sweet. After that WAY too short kiss she looked embarrassed. I wanted to make her feel comfortable with what we did so I gently cradled her hand in mine and told her that I loved her.
After that day we became a couple.

Nothing could separate us, not even graduating high school. We both went to the same college, she majored in journalism while I majored in business. We both got jobs in the same city, moved into the same apartment. She was finally mine, I got what I wanted all my life.
So, long story short, I need her as much as she needs me. And I suppose that’s why I’m here in this park, on one knee, begging for her to officially be mine forever.

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