It's been 65 years since Pete and I got married. And as I lay on this stiff bed, I began to write down everything I remembered, before I forgot it all.
The doctor said I only had a while left to live. That's fine. I've lived my life to the fullest I could. I stopped and smelled the roses, felt the wind between my toes, married a man two days after I met him.
I like to think I've done it all.
My memory was weak, but I remembered everything about how we met. How we fell in love. What happened after.
With a shaking hand, I pulled out the old leather journal he gave me and clicked a hospital pen, readying myself to write.
The thing I remember and will never forget were your shoes. Your neon green, covered in writing, high top Chucks. You kicked them up on my dash like it was nothing. "Wanna smoke?" You grinned.
That Cheshire Cat grin.
I politely declined your offer and looked out to the water. "What are you doing in my car?" I had asked. You just smiled again and pulled out a cigarette, popping it in your mouth and lighting it with a flick of your thin wrist.
"I think the question here is why did Washington cross the Delaware?" You leaned in close. "Because he fucking wanted to."
"Actually he was general leading his army-"
"Shut up nerd." You grinned again, an energy radiating off of your hazel eyes like some kind of magic.
"Whatever." I looked out the window again, taking a large amount of air into my lungs. "What do you want?"
You flicked the butt of your cigarette. "Rude. You look like you needed company."
"I'm perfectly fine with being alone."
I remember the sore look in your eyes and feeling guilty at the prospect of somehow inducing pain for you.
"I'm sorry," I quickly apologized.
You brushed it off as if it were nothing.
You always seemed to do that.
The next day, you showed up again. You didn't even know I was a runaway living in my dads old BMW. You didn't care, honestly. I never truly knew where you came from, only that you came and didn't leave.
I remember our kiss in the meadow, the hugs in the lake and the lingering gazes that gave me goosebumps during every car ride. You were driving me crazy.
Crazy enough that when you asked me to marry you, I immediately said yes.
You were my runaway romance, that tingling feeling on the back of your neck, that new car smell, that moment of madness.
You were my everything.
Man made love led lost boys holding on.
You read my poetry and grinned.
That Cheshire Cat grin.
I held the pen still for a moment, letting the hand cramp pass before I began writing again.
Years began to pass and I never fell out of love. Your eyes never ceased to enthrall me, your words never desisted to leave me in wonder. You constantly captured me in your beauty, in your life, in every little thing you did.
Thank you for that.
Because of that I was able to live a long, happy life.
Here I lay, Pete, here I lay in a hospital bed with three more hours to live.
Here I lay thinking about all the times we spent, all the sweet somethings whispered, every kissed pressed onto broken mouths.
I want you to know that despite every tear I've seen you shed, no sadness can ever compare to the joy I saw in your smile.
Your grin.
That Cheshire Cat
I gasped for air, my left hand clawing at my throat as my right hand scrambled to write the last word. The paper began to tear. I dropped the pen.
The monitor starting beeping fast.
People rushed in.
I opened my mouth, trying to force out the last word as they pushed a mask against my face. I gently pushed the hand away and shook my head.
"Mikey, no!" I heard a shout.
Bandit, I thought.
I smiled a mad smile.
A mad hatter smile.
As I drifted out of life, all I could remember was the waves of that lake, beating against the shore harder than my heart in my chest.
The rusted car door.
The smoke.
Those shoes.
His eyes.
My life flashed before me, as they say it does.
The last image stuck.
A grin.
That Cheshire Cat grin.
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