The Last Embrace

"It's time," the doctor's voice breaks the heavy silence as I gaze at Adam's motionless form. I've known all along that this disease would one day take Adam's life, yet I've refused to accept it fully. I've clung to a sliver of hope, a desperate belief that somehow, someway, we could defy the odds. But now, as I watch him lying there, so fragile and so brave, I can no longer deny the truth. The love of my life is slipping away, and I can do nothing to stop it. I've liked Adam Chambers for as long as I can recall. Growing up as next-door neighbors, we spent every day in each other's company, sharing secrets and dreams beneath the summer sun. Though I harbored a silent affection for him, it remained unspoken between us until high school.

I remember it vividly. One night, Adam asked if I wanted to gaze at the stars with him on his roof. Of course, I said yes; I was head over heels in love with him. Anticipating an everyday hangout like the ones we'd had every day for the past decade, I didn't expect anything unusual. But everything changed that night under the twinkling stars on his roof. He kissed me with a soft confession of love, igniting a burst of emotion that felt like fireworks—a moment I had longed for forever. The universe brings our souls together in a long embrace. However, we've outgrown our teenage years, and the chance to experience a moment like this again slips further away with each passing day. I witnessed Adam's gradual decline, the once familiar face transforming into that of a stranger. His frame grew thinner, his eyes hollowed, and the chill of his skin betrayed the warmth that once radiated from within. It isn't easy to see the person you love decline in such a horrible way.

I remember the specific day when Adam started showing symptoms of his sickness. He had been complaining about feeling dizzy and experiencing frequent headaches, but I brushed it off, attributing it to stress. I insisted he lay down and take a break, thinking it would pass. If only I had insisted on taking him to the doctor earlier, would he perhaps not be lying on his deathbed now? I procrastinated until the very last moment, waiting until he had a seizure before finally acknowledging that something was seriously wrong. Discovering that he had reached the advanced stage of brain cancer was devastating, undoubtedly the worst day of my life, knowing no medicine or chemotherapy would save him. Yet now, reflecting on today's events, I realize that this day is even more excruciating. Ever since his diagnosis, I felt the most guilt I have ever felt. Why did I get so unlucky? Did I do something to deserve this, or does the universe have something against me? Beneath these feelings of guilt, I hold meaningful memories with Adam which seem to keep me going. My last great memory with him was when I drove him up to see the sunset one last time. He has always loved the sunsets and how different they could look depending on the night. Some nights, the skies were painted with blue and pink colors like cotton candy, and sometimes, a warm orange and yellow sky. We both knew and accepted, in a way, that this would be one of the last sunsets he would ever see again. Adam was confined to a wheelchair and frail from his illness, barely able to stand. But in that moment, he was determined to stand up and soak in every moment of life he had left to live. So he stood, leaning heavily on me for support, but he was standing on his feet. He's so weak and shaking in my embrace, yet the strongest he's ever been.  

    "Wow. It's amazing; it feels like the first time I have ever seen a sunset." Adam said with glossy eyes, staring into the warm colors of the sunset. 

 I looked at him with tears, knowing this might be the last time we saw the sunset together. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"  

   "More than I could have imagined." He says, getting choked up. I glance over at him to see the clear sadness on his face.

   "Oh Adam, I'm so s-" I tried saying to let him know how I wish the disease would have taken me, not him, but I don't. 

"Shhh… it's okay; I want to take in these last few moments with you." And we do; we sit silently with his head on my shoulder and take in the sunset. In that fleeting moment, it felt like time stood still, the world around us fading away as we clung to each other, cherishing the beauty of the sunset and the love that bound us together. Our souls, once tied together by the universe, are now severed. Looking down at Adam, I realized it was time to say goodbye, so I took a deep breath, grabbed his freezing hand, and shared my last words with him looking down at my legs instead of at him. 

   "Remember when we said we were going to grow old together? I mean, we were so young, so innocent, not knowing what our future would hold. We always joked about how we would be as an old couple." I say, laughing yet feeling like sobbing at the same time.

I breathed before starting my following sentence because I knew this would be hard.

"I'm so sorry, Adam, I- I don't know why this is happening. I never will, and I wish it was me on this bed, not you. I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can-.” I get choked up again, making it hard for me to form full sentences. I close my eyes for a second, before deciding to look up at him while I share my final few words.  

“Oh god Adam. I love you so much you have no idea, and one day we will meet again wherever we end up. Goodbye." I rush through the sentence, blurting out what my brain is thinking.      

I somehow smile at him, even though my heart is ripping apart. I put one hand on his right cheek and lift my face towards him. And I plant a soft kiss on his lips, but this kiss feels like the opposite of our first kiss. There are no fireworks or excitement. It's just deep, deep sadness and grief. Yet, at the same time, this kiss means the most to me. The last kiss I'm sharing with Adam Chambers. Pulling away, I feel the warm tears pass down my rosy face. So Goodbye, Adam, and I walk towards the window because I can't bear to watch him slip away; the blinds are closed, which gives the room an even more eerie feeling; the noise of the heart monitor quickly goes from slow beeping to one continuous beep which confirms his passing. Tears stream down my face as I collapse into sobs, overwhelmed with my grief. I opened the blinds to get more light in the room, and at that moment, I saw the brightest sunset, just like that one night with Adam on the mountain. As the outside world revealed its beauty, I realized that Adam is now in a place of peace and comfort, and one day, I will be there with him.