Mitch's P.O.V.
You were there when I fell from the tree, landing on the ground with a crash. You held me as I screamed and cried, broken up clutched across my chest and blood streaming down my forehead
That moment was one of my strongest memories of my childhood even though I was only 8 years old at the time, simply because it was when Jerome truly became my best friend. We had known each other before that, yes, but it was that day when he held me close and comforted me on the ambulance ride that cemented our friendship as one that would last decades.
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You were there when I got that call, than call that changed everything. At 20, I was completely alone.
My family was all gone, my parents, my siblings and my grandparents were all gone in one small moment, taken by a drunk driver who didn't had the sense to stay in their own lane, crashing down a hill in their car heading home from Thanksgiving. They didn't have a chance to survive. For years after I regretted not going to that Thanksgiving, too busy with work and I would see them at Christmas anyway, and at the time I didn't realise that if I had gone I would have been killed as well.
The one person I did have was Jerome, my rock and the only person I could trust with everything. He was distraught as well, he knew my parents and siblings from when we were growing up, but he was able to keep himself together more than I could- obviously, he hadn't just had his entire family killed and was left completely alone in the world. Well, alone other than him.
He drove me to the funeral, dragged me out of bed and fed me, or forced me into the shower after weeks of lying in bed, unable to do anything. He let me mourn, of course, but if I hadn't had him then I likely would have starved myself to death or died of dehydration, and I thanked him for it when I was in my right mind. I might have resisted then but if he hadn't stood firm I hated to think how I would have ended up.
We had been living together by then, a tiny apartment a couple of hours away from our hometown, and had been best friends for over 10 years. He knew what to do to comfort me, to get me to eat or drink or shower when I refused to, and he knew what to say to me to comfort me.
This time following the death of my family was the beginning began our eventual romantic relationship.
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You were there when the test results came back, a phone call from the doctor that urged me to head to the emergency room at once because my white blood cell count was so high and red blood cell count so low that the immediate thought was that it was leukemia- acute leukemia. And, unfortunately, horrifically, painfully, the initial diagnosis was right.
Acute myelogenous leukemia, confirmed after a bone marrow biopsy, a CT scan and a lumbar puncture to find out if the cancer had spread further into my body- and it had. I knew from the beginning my treatment would be long and painful, chemotherapy for almost 3 years while at the same time trying to continue YouTube, and then two separate stem cell transplants because too many healthy blood cells were killed and the first one wasn't enough.
And Jerome was with me through it all. He drove me to and from hospital for each treatment and appointment, he held my hand through the treatment, he cried when I cried, he held me tight when I was told, after an entire painful year, that I was finally in remission, and he was by my side through everything, treatment, visits, sleepless nights.
Jerome was there when after three years, three years of non stop chemotherapy and transplants and pain, that they couldn't find any trace of the cancer. For a month I remained cancer free, then another month, and another, then 6 months, then a year. I had to go back for monthly blood and bone marrow tests to make sure the cancer hadn't returned, and it didn't.
I was finally cancer free, I could finally go home and not worry about going to the hospital again. The ring on my finger was something else, a gift, a symbol of love, a proposal the moment we knew the cancer was gone. We got married 2 months after my treatment ended, most of the planning left to me during the chemo to keep me occupied.
He was there through all of that as well, saying our vows, sharing a kiss. I was so glad I had him.
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You were there when all the paperwork was signed, two neat but slightly shaky signatures at the bottom of the pile of papers that finally confirmed we could take home our son. Connor Max Aceti, Jerome Robert Aceti and Mitchell Donnell-Ralph Aceti. The three of us, one little family. It was an amazing feeling.
He was only 3 years old when we first met him and 4 when we got to take him home, and it was the best feeling in the world to know that we, we who had been through so much together, the loss of my family, the cancer, YouTube and the terror that came with that on its own, and now we had our little boy.
"Connor!" I called, standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Come on kiddo, we're leaving in 5!"
He scrambled down the stairs, only half dressed with his hair a mess, and he was bouncing happily.
"I'm ready dad!"
"Are you sure?" I laughed. "Because it doesn't look like you're ready."
"Yes!" He said stanchly, folding his arms and pouting. "I'm ready."
"Alright, is your bag packed? Books, raincoat, lunch?" He nodded.
"Dad packed them."
"Okay then. I'll take you to school." He continued down the stairs and ran into the living room, calling for Jerome. He had been up earlier than me so must have gathered our sons things while I was sleeping.
Jerome came up to me just before I left and pressed a kiss to my cheek, arms around my waist.
"Love you Mitch." He whispered, nose resting against my temple. "So much."
"I love you too Jerome." I whispered back, smiling. "Even more."
I was so glad that he was there.
