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He Always Was

She sat on a bucket, sun beating down on her back, the glare of a ponds water dancing in her eyes, he was there with her. Like he always was. They were best friends, not the kind that talked all the time or went on crazy adventures, they were the silent, understanding type. They went fishing a lot because when they fished it was like their souls were connected in a certain kind of harmony. And somehow when she was with him, her world seemed alright. He came to all of her ballgames, every single one, and he loved it. He loved everything she did, not because he loved being there but because he knew those things made her happy. He was never pursuing his own happiness because he was completely selfless. When she said goodbye he never had to say that he loved her, he just did a wink of sorts and even when her world felt like it was falling in around her, that wink somehow held up the walls. She never had to tell him when something was wrong, he always could tell. His dark brown eyes seemed to see straight into her heart, he was the only one who could ever really knock down the walls she had placed around herself. She imagined so many things in the future, she thought of all the things she was going to do that would make him so proud. She was going to graduate high school and follow her dreams, the ones that only he understood, she was going to marry a boy who was perfect, and he was going to wink at her with his approval, she would have a baby and he was going to hold it close. He was going to be there. She never even imagined the end, but it came. He had cancer, pancreatic and stage 4. She watched as the rock in her life became weak, she could tell he was slipping, mentally and physically. It was a roller coaster of emotions, gaining hope one day and crashing the next, and up until his last day she couldn't accept that it was really the end. She stayed all through his last night, going in and out of the room, listening to his ragged breaths and hiding away in the hospital so no one would see her flood of tears. She hated when people saw her cry, he did too. She tried so hard to be strong for her family at the visitation, at the funeral, but no matter how hard she tried not to, the tears rolled down her cheeks for hours. She wished he could still be there to help her, to understand like only he could. It took her a long time to realize that he had never really left. So there she sat, on a bucket, the sun beating on her back and the glare of a pond's water dancing in her eyes. She knew he was there, like he always was.



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ly1998 said...
today at 6:29 pm:
Gorgeous :)
 
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