Heroes

People used to say I was able to read into people’s souls with just one picture. I took tons of them. It’s my job, after all. But what I love the most is taking photos of people I know, it helps me know them better. It’s what happened with you. I didn’t know you that well when I took the first photo of you, but I’m holding it now in my cold hands and I notice all the little things that I would’ve eventually learnt to love. You weren’t glancing at the camera lens, instead, you were busy doing what you loved the most. The more I stare at this photograph, however, the more I hope to suddenly hear your laugh. It’s almost as if I’m trying to find hope where there isn’t.

Once we talked about hope; we had different opinions about it. I was so convinced that hope was for suckers, you fought me saying that hope wasn’t for the weak, it was for all the people whose fate was challenging them. I wasn’t completely sure you were right back then, and certainly I’m not now, but I agreed with you anyway. You had this power over me that it was both beautiful and terrifying. I never let anyone have so much control over me, not even my parents, but then you came around and flipped my world upside down. I don’t know how it happened. My best friend it was love a first sight for me, a love that was completely irrational and extraordinary; your friends said I was your drug. I don’t like either and you know it. You said you liked my independence, I said I liked your strength.

The other photographs that is hidden behind this one, is the one your best friend took at a party. It’s a bit blurry, but you can easily recognize us. You were wearing your usual pair of jeans, but you were barefoot and shirtless. You asked me you had to put something on for the photo but you didn’t give me the chance to reply.

“You like your photos the way you take them: natural.”

I smiled to the camera, but your eyes were on me. I was wearing a dress for the first time in years and the look you gave me when I entered the house made me feel like a queen, as if there was no other woman for you, as if I was yours now and forever. I always loved the way you looked at me. I didn’t notice it at first, but when you started to become more obvious, I found it hard to hold back my smile. Then you stopped holding back and I did the same. Everything in our relationship was like my photographs: natural and peaceful.

Most of it, at least.

Just like every couple, we fought about everything and nothing, but we were making up as quickly as we started fighting. Valary once said that we were the strangest couple she’s ever seen; we both took it as a compliment. We lived in our strangeness and loved our craziness. Now I finally start to understand why our friends always told us we completed each other and I wonder if maybe it’s too late.

“Take my hand, Emily.”
“I’m not scared.”
“I know, but I am.”

I knew you were lying; you weren’t afraid of anything, but I held your hand anyway as my lips turned into a smile and my heart started beating faster. It wasn’t because of the roller coaster, though. It was the way you held my hand and laughed while on our ride. It was the first time you held my hand and I thank God that it wasn’t also the last. I’m no religious but there are times, like these past days, where I prayed God. You would probably find it funny. I can even hear your voice in my mind asking me why the fuck I’m praying God when I’ve never done it before, and I’m even able to sense some sort of sarcasm in the tone of your voice, as you’d add that I shouldn’t pray as I’m a goddess myself. I would laugh at you, then I’d kiss your lips to make you stop talking. I always do it and I know you love it, even if you pretend you don’t.

The only time when you were saying some extremely cheesy was when we were slow dancing to a song we both hated and no one was home with us. “You are my all”, you whispered with your forehead against mine. You weren’t saying much out loud with those four words, but I knew that you meant it and it meant the world to me.

One night, way before I moved in with you, we were sitting on your couch and you made me put my legs on your lap, so you could caress my skin. It drove me crazy every time you did it; and that night it wasn’t any different. You told me that living wasn’t important but now that I was in your life, living had a new meaning to you. I couldn’t agree more. To me, living means you. To me, living means wake up next to you every morning; it means getting drunk with you; it means making love with you whenever we want; it means you and me.
I’m not sure that living has the same meaning now.

I was the one who found you passed out in the bathroom. I woke up when I heard you get up, you told me to go back to sleep and that you’d be back soon. I trusted you. It wasn’t unusual of you to get up in the middle of the night to get something to help you sleep. The first time it’s happened, I got scared and worried, then you explained to me how you’ve always had trouble sleeping so I eventually got used to it, although I never really liked when you got those pills. I liked playing with your hair until you fell asleep more than seeing you take drugs for your insomnia. Sometimes you let me do it, but only after you took your pills. I was tired that night, but I tried my best to stay awake and wait for you to come back to bed. You didn’t. When I woke up after an hour, I thought it’d been only a couple of minutes, but when I checked the clock and the other half of our bed that was cold, I realized you hadn’t come back to bed.

You were laying down on the cold floor of the bathroom. I called you many times until I realized that I could barely hear your heartbeat. Usually, it was loud and clear and it killed me that it was so weak. The paramedics arrived after a few minutes and I went with them without letting go of your hand. I didn’t want you to think I abandoned you. I already did when I didn’t stay up to wait for you. I had to let it go when they brought you to a room I wasn’t allowed in. It wasn’t fair. All I wanted was to stay with you and they were keeping me away from you.

When your best friend arrived, he didn’t say a word. I could read the heartache into his eyes, he had so many questions to ask and so many things to say, but he said nothing. Instead, he wrapped his arms around him for a few seconds, but it felt to be a very long time. I held onto him, shaking because of the cold weather and because of what happened. When I ran outside with the paramedics, I didn’t bother to grab a coat or anything. I was still wearing a light pair of pants and a black shirt that was way too big for me. In fact, it was yours. You always complained that I stole all your clothes but I couldn’t help it. They were so comfortable and they made me feel like I was home, like you were home, even when you weren’t.

You weren’t home this time either. The cold rooms of the hospital were nothing like home, not even if I was wearing your shirt and your best friend was here with me. He cried at some point, when your parents arrived at the hospital. I didn’t. I wanted to, thinking that if I did, I would feel better, but I simply couldn’t. The pain was so strong I couldn’t feel anything, nor could I describe it now. Or ever. Only someone who went through the same as me could understand, but I would never wish this to anybody, not even to my worst enemy.

It was when the doctor came out of your room, after over two hours, that I started crying. You were alive. You were alive, just not alive enough to be here with us and breathe on your own. It felt like I was falling down a dark hole and no one would save me. The only one who could save me was you, but you couldn’t. You were fighting your own demons, your own dark hole and being in a coma was enough for you. I couldn’t ask you to come back and save me.

Your best friend found me on our undone bed while I was smoking and holding one of your sweatshirts. I hadn’t touched our bed since that night, spending all my time by your side. Sometimes your parents told me to go home saying that they would call me if anything happened, and I was told almost the same by your friends. I didn’t care. I had already left you by yourself once, I couldn’t let myself do it once again.

“We should go.”

I nodded and got up, putting your sweatshirt on. You used to joke about how I looked with your clothes on, I wonder what you would’ve told me then. Maybe you would’ve laughed. Oh, how much I miss your laugh.

“He’s gonna make it.”

This time, it was Matt speaking. During the time you were in a coma, I didn’t speak much to anyone. Your friends, mine, the nurses and even your family asked me if I needed anything, but I couldn’t get the only thing I needed, so I simply shook my head and kept holding your hand.

Please, let this be true.

There is a small church down the street. I never noticed it until I overheard a woman speak about it right outside of the hospital. I went there one morning, when there was Brian with you. There was no one I trusted more than him with you, so when I asked him to keep me updated, saying that I’d be back in less than an hour, he simply nodded and hugged me again. We never hugged so much like those days. It was weird, yet natural. Another natural thing was walking into that small church. I always stayed away from religious things, but that day it was different. The church was empty and the sound of my steps echoed into the room. I sat down on a pew, but it didn’t take me much before I broke down in tears.

“What do I do?” I cried, unsure whether that question was for God or myself. Someone put an arm on my shoulder and if the situation was different, I would’ve reacted badly, but in that moment I could barely breathe without feeling like dying. Looking up, I noticed that it was a priest.

“I never saw you around, but this is the house of the Lord. It’s open to anybody.” He said and gave me a sweet smile. “Maybe do you want to talk?”

“What do I have to do to get a miracle?”

“Pray. Just pray. The Lord will listen.”

He didn’t. Not in the way I wanted to. You were still in that limbo and apparently there was nothing the doctors could do to help you get out of there, to help you get back to me. Once I even screamed at a doctor, asking him why the fuck he took a degree in medicine if he couldn’t help you. Brian had to drag me away, probably not wanting me to do something I would regret. I’m sure the scene would’ve amused you.

As I was trying to collect myself smoking a cigarette outside of the hospital, I noticed a few fans of yours placing flowers on the ground, right next to the entrance. It made me sick. I liked flowers, but not in that occasion. I hated everybody who brought flowers to people who were in a hospital. It was almost as if they were trying to excuse themselves for all the shit they did while that person was well, or even alive. But I couldn’t blame your fans. I got the chance to meet some of them after a few concerts a couple of years ago and they are absolutely the best. So dedicated and so loyal. One of those girls at the hospital recognized me as they walked towards him. I didn’t want to meet them, I wasn’t ready.

“Be strong”, was the only thing they said before giving me a lily. It reminded me of that time you came home with a bunch of red and yellow roses. You’ve never been one of those men who buy flowers to their women, so I was really surprised when you walked in holding that bouquet of flowers. I asked you what the occasion was, but you shrugged, saying you didn’t need an occasion to get me flowers.

You didn’t need anything to do something. You simply did. You walked in and picked me up, making me laugh. You put me on the couch and kissed down my neck and chest. You did everything but absolutely no reason. Just like half or more the things we used to do. We chose to redo the kitchen and we even bought a stand mixer for no reason. I baked you your favorite cake using that stand mixer, though.

“See? It wasn’t a complete waste of money”, you said and I couldn’t help but agree. I ate one single slice of that cake, you finished it off by yourself. I called you pig, but you laughed before picking me up and taking me our bed. You said you wanted to burn the calories of that cake. I laughed, this time.

“Hold my hands, Emily”, you whimpered as you looked up at me. You used to love feeling my hands wandering on your chest as I was on top of him, but I didn’t say anything and held your hands. You quickly switched position and kissed me roughly but passionately, as you squeezed my hands. Before you, I didn’t know what making love meant. I thought it was something invented by poets and writers to explain something pure, beautiful but completely fictional. After you, everything I’ve ever read about this made sense.

I noticed Brian walking towards me and a few fans were watching him, but thankfully no one bothered him. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and lit up two cigarettes. He offered me one and I thanked him as we sat down on the edge of the sidewalk. I hadn’t eaten much in the past weeks, but smoking was the best part of my day. If I didn’t die of heartbreak, I would die of lung cancer. Such a crumb of comfort.

That evening, Matt drove me home. I needed to take a shower and change my clothes. As I walked towards the front door, Mrs. Dacey stopped me. The few times I went home I didn’t get to see anyone, and now our neighbor stopped me asking me how it was going. I wanted to tell her you were getting better, but you weren’t. Not even a little bit. The doctors spoke with your family and me, as both your parents allowed me to be present to all their meetings, and told us there was small chance you’d wake up from your coma. Your heart wasn’t doing good at all. I told Mrs. Dacey the truth, she told me she would pray for you. I wonder what you would’ve thought of all these prayers.

Driving me back to the hospital, Matt was trying to distract me, but I can’t quite catch his voice or what he’s telling me. My mind is with you, not with Matt. He’s such a good man, though. He comes to the hospital whenever he can and stays there, telling you everything about his day and his life.

“You already know what you’re gonna do, Em?”

I looked up at him and felt my heart skip a beat. He was talking about unplugging the life-support system. That damn doctor suggested to unplug the machines and again, I was tempted to punch him in the face. This time it was your sister, Katie, who held me back.

“No one wants to do it. We’re waiting.”

“For what?”

“A miracle.”

The radio started playing David Bowie’s Heroes and Matt and I looked at each other for a brief moment. It was like someone hit us with a whip or something. It’s one of my favorite songs and you decided that it was going to be our song. Again, you decided something for no reason.

And we kissed, as though nothing could fall.

The doctor learned not to bother us for the next few days, telling one of the nurses to speak with us. That was until they both ran towards us as we walked back into the cardiology ward. Brian stood up as quickly as possible and stood next to me. I wonder if it was because of what the doctor was going to tell us or because he was afraid of what I might’ve done to the man. When he spoke, though, I felt like my whole world was spinning again. I only listened to the first few words he had said, then I hugged Brian. We were crying. It was like nothing else but those mattered to us. Michelle was covering her mouth with her hand as she was holding back her tears. She’s so stubborn, that woman. Never let anyone see her cry. Your best friend cupped my cheek and kissed my forehead before letting me go.

“Go”, he said and without saying anything, I ran past him and entered your room. There were beautiful nurses all around him and it reminded me of when you were always surrounded by fans and girls when you were on tour. I wasn’t jealous. I’ve never been. Not of you, at least. I knew I had your heart, and you had mine. Now that something else got your heart, though, that’s when I got jealous. It wasn’t fair. I was there first. Your heart was mine.

Warm tears covered my cheeks as I tried to stop sobbing, but when the nurses walked away and I finally say you, that’s when I lost it. I walked towards you and tried to find words to say, but nothing came to my mind. You smiled at me and I couldn’t help but smile widely back at you.

“You fucker”, I said. You laughed softly, moving your hand to your chest. I leaned down and kissed your lips. They were warm and pink. They were alive. You were alive. You ran your hands through my hair before slowly deepening the kiss. You told me you loved me between kisses and I smiled against your lips. “I love you”, I whispered back. I said those words many times in the past weeks, unsure whether you could hear me or not.
Someone cleared his throat and we both looked towards the door, only to see your best friend standing there. He was playing with his ring and he slowly walked inside. I kissed your forehead then I gently squeezed Brian’s hand before finally walking outside, so you two could have some alone time. You both needed it.

I couldn’t stop smiling. This was a miracle. My miracle.

As I walked into the waiting room, I saw your parents running outside of the elevator. They both hugged me and your mother kissed my cheeks. “It’s you. Your love woke him up”, she said. I’m not sure if it was my love, the doctor or even the prayers what really woke you up but I didn’t care. You were back and there was absolutely nothing that would take you away from me again.

I didn’t feel pain anymore, there was just happiness.

I walked out of the hospital and started smoking. I decided that it would be my last cigarette of the day. Or even, the last cigarette ever. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, I didn’t need a lung cancer anymore.

“He’s asking where you are.” Brian said, lighting up his own cigarette.

“I’m coming.”

I spent the night with you, curled up in that chair that had been my bed for the past weeks. I always envied those people who could sleep whenever and wherever; you were one of them. Sometimes I watched you sleep on the couch or half on the kitchen table, once I even watched you sleep on the floor and wondered how you could do it without fucking up your back. “I’m the knife master. I can do whatever I want”, you said. I also wondered if you thought about all the things you said before actually saying them out loud, but I guess you don’t. It’s your talent.

“Hi, baby.”

I smiled as you woke up and spoke. Baby. Sometimes even your friends called me that, but not in the same way you did. Anything that came out of your mouth seemed different to me. My best friend said that this meant I was completely and utterly in love with you. I didn’t her to tell me this, though. I’m already aware of my feelings for you.

The sheets aren’t covering your chest completely and I can see the scar on your chest. You ask me if it’s bad, I said no. It’s the truth. Scars shows us where we’ve been and what has happened to us, no need to hate them. I looked at your tattoo and realized that it has never been more real. You got that tattoo saying that nobody would’ve believed you if you told them your life, you were right. Especially now. Your fucked up heart put you in a coma for weeks but you were back now. Back to the livings.

I kissed your hand and you smiled. I didn’t see you, but I knew you too well.

“I want to take you home.”

“You will. I can’t wait to go home with you.”

Your best friend walked into your room the next morning, at sunrise. I barely heard him walk in, but you were already smiling at him. One day, I caught you look at some old photographs I had taken. I asked you what you were doing, you answered you wanted to know everything about me, everything about my past, everything about the people I had met in the past. I never wanted to do the same. I only cared about you in the present and about us in the future. But I asked your parents and even Brian’s parents about you two together. Brian came with the package. I chose you, but the band and especially Brian came along too. I didn’t mind. The guys are great and Brian is seriously one of the best guys I've ever met. I surely was glad you two were best friends, even if he had a part of you that I knew you wouldn’t be able to give me. But it was okay. I loved you anyway.

I left you alone with your best friend because you needed him again and I went to get a coffee, because I needed it.

What I didn’t need was standing in the humidity of the parking lot of the hospital. After long, sunny days, we got this. That day, the sky was grey and it seemed like it could start raining in just a matter of seconds. It was definitely a strange weather for Huntington Beach, even if it was January. It was almost as if God was trying to reminding me that nature can be cruel, too. Not only life. I was holding a cigarette between my fingers, but I wasn’t smoking it. The cigarette was burning itself, almost as I was burning inside. It wasn’t like when I was burning with love whenever I was with you. It was different and bad. The pounding headache made it difficult to even think, but maybe this wasn’t a bad thing. This way I didn’t have to think of what had happened or of what was going to happen next.

When you were laying on that hospital bed, just a few hours ago, I told you I was afraid I’d have to see you on that bed forever. You laughed, saying nothing lasted forever. I smiled. I wanted to correct you and tell you that you were wrong, our love was forever, but as soon as you started speaking, I realized you had a point.

“Nothing lasts forever because everything changes. The person you are now isn’t the person you were ten minutes ago, an hour ago, a week ago or last year. We change. Everything changes.”

No truer words were ever spoken.

I never believed in forever until I met you, but now it means nothing to me again.

I looked up and noticed that one single ray of light was lighting up the window of that room where you had been for weeks. I’m just glad you were with Brian when it happened. I wanted to be the one to be there with you; I failed you once again. But you had Brian with you, when that Lord I prayed so much but that I really didn’t believe in decided to take you away from us, once and for all. I wonder what you felt when you had to leave this world for a better one.

Once you joked saying that you’d end up in hell, I smiled and kissed your lips, saying I would follow you wherever you ended up being after your death. I believe you didn’t end up in hell, though. You were too good and your heart was too pure for hell.

I took a deep breath after pulling over my car. I was at the hospital, I only stopped to buy a bottle of Guinness and one of Jack Daniel’s on my way to the beach. I’m gonna drink to you and Brian. I sat down on the shore, letting the cold water of the ocean touch my feet and legs. I’m wearing that dress you loved so much. It’s too light for this weather, but I don’t care. I hope you’ll like it.

I took a sip of the beer as I smoke the nth cigarette of the day. I lost count of it. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, shivers running down my spine. It’s cold, but not as cold as it was when I saw Brian ran outside of the hospital early today. I left a letter for him. I wanted to leave something for my parents, yours and even the guys, but I knew it would be pointless. Brian will be able to explain everything to them and if not, they’ll understand themselves.

Halfway through the Jack Daniel’s, I start to feel the alcohol kick in. It’s a weird feeling. I didn’t like getting drunk that much, unless I was with you; you made everything better. You stared at me for a long minute when I told you I didn’t like getting drunk. It was almost as if I told you always had frogs for dinner. Then you laughed and promised me that getting drunk, from that moment, would’ve been different. It really was.

I have nothing with me right now, except for the alcohol, my iPod (there’s our song on repeat) and the two photographs I love the most: the one where you’re playing your drums and the one with the two of together. I took many photos of you playing the drums, some of which you’ve never seen. Actually, I’m not even sure you noticed me taking those pictures. You were always so focused on your music that you didn’t even hear me walk into the room.Playing the drums was everything to you and watching you do it was amazing. You were in your element. I was always afraid of bothering you, then once I dared to kiss that tattoo of yours I loved so much, and you stopped playing, but didn’t say anything. You turned around picked me up before kissing me.

Oh, how I miss your kisses. Do you think we’ll kiss again? I like to think we will. No, I need to believe that we will.

I finally finished off the whiskey. I can barely stand but it doesn’t matter, my way to you isn’t that long anymore. I stumble towards the wide, cold ocean. We came here once, around this time of the night. I can’t remember what we told each other, right now my mind is a blur, but I remember that we took our clothes off and got into the water. Do you think we’ll swim together again? Maybe we will, just not here. I don’t belong here anymore, not without you.

“I’ll see you soon, Jimmy.”

As I hold your photograph to my heart, I let the waves crush over me. I’m ready. I’m ready to leave my life behind. I’m ready to see you again, so we can be heroes, for ever and ever. What d'you say?

Notes

Do I hate myself? Yes, I do. I wrote this last night for absolutely no reason whatsoever, except maybe, to hurt myself.

I haven't reread the story, so I apologize for possible mistakes. However, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed (and cried while) writing it.

Comments and votes are appreciated, as always <3