A few days ago the thought of losing him would never cross my mind. He and I are best friends, always there for each other. He was there when my boyfriend’s car broke down and we were stranded, and I was there when he just wanted to give up and didn’t feel like trying anymore. It’s been like that for a long time and I don’t think that I’m ready to let go of that.

When he walked up to me and said, “They said there’s a chance I won’t make it.” my heart stopped. No matter how small that chance is, it’s still a possibility. That’s what scares me. No matter how much they do to help him, it could still happen. I would lose a part of myself if I were to lose him.

When you think about someone you love dying, you start to think of memories. Memories of sneaking out and memories of laughing at everything with him have begun to play and replay in my mind. You really don’t know how much you appreciate something or someone until it’s ripped from your grasp.

I was sitting in the school’s auditorium when he told me. I was rummaging through my music folder when my phone buzzed in my pocket. When I looked at his name on popping up on my phone I almost ignored it. He often sent me random messages throughout the day that made no sense but, he knew would make me smile. I decided to open the message out of general curiosity of what random obscene joke he probably sent me. When I read the words on the screen it felt like someone had punched me in the gut. All the air had escaped my lungs and I forgot to struggle for breath. “They found a tumor in my brain.”

I stared at the screen longer. A tumor. We had been learning about this in Biology class. I sat down, losing my strength to stand. I struggled to think of all the facts I had thought useless about tumors. I mentally reviewed all the pictures and notes we had gone over and the thought of clumps of cells consumed my mind. My eyes came into focus and I looked around me. Everyone was carrying on as normal; warming up, stretching, playing the piano. I, however, couldn’t string any conscious thoughts together.

That’s when I began to worry. Still, now, I can’t help but worry that I’m going to lose him. I can’t help but thinking that I’m going to have to walk into History class every day, sitting down and looking at the empty seat next to me. The seat where he would normally be sitting in, making me laugh until I cry. I worry that I’ll have to go to study hall and sit alone thinking about how we would normally be drawing all over each other’s binders and homework, writing silly song and going over my writing for Creative Writing class.

He always gives me this strange sense of freedom. A feeling that I can do whatever I really want to do. Sometimes when I say that I have to do something, he’ll say to me, “No you don’t.” I like that. It gives me options. He has this way of walking into a room and immediately making me feel better. I can’t help but wonder if I do the same for him.
I don’t know what will happen. It would be great if I could look into the future and see if he makes it out okay, but I can’t. I do know that before I go to bed tonight I’ll do something I haven’t done in a long while. I’ll close my eyes and pray to God. I’ll pray that that small chance, that possibility, will shrink into nothing.