The concert was the best idea I had ever had.
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It was late in the afternoon when I asked if you wanted to join me.
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Remember angel?
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We were out on the balcony again, on that green blanket we had begun using routinely when we sat outside.
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The traffic could be heard despite being miles down, the breeze raised bumps on our arms. I had draped my coat over you. You had shrugged it off and scolded me to keep myself warm, and I had just agreed with you and tied the arms of my jacket tighter around you anyway.
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I suppose we had almost spent a year together by then.
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I hadn't expected to live that long, you know.
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You were the only reason I got to see so much of my life.
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You had given up on shoving your jacket onto me, and had begun fidgeting with your nightdress. You were wearing the one with pink penguins on it, I remember. You had told me excitedly that you could finally bring out your winter dresses, and I had smiled back like a fool in love.
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“Ayla.” I had brushed your hair back and tied it up with a spare rubber band I always carried around. We had grown close enough for me to do that. I wasn't sure how natural I seemed doing things like that, things like helping zip the backs of your dresses, or braiding your hair.
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But my hands were shaking. The only thought screaming in my mind was me telling myself to be gentle, as I gathered all the strands near your ear, and the back of your neck.
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You had hummed at me and leaned your head back unconsciously, into my touch. And I had wanted to scream.
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Instead I had asked you about the concert, to fill the silence. Mostly to stop myself from doing something I would regret.
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“Concert?”
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You had sounded surprised. As if you couldn't quite understand why I would consider calling you.
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“It's a jazz band.” I had said without sparing a beat. “They're really good. Liam got tickets, he won some bet or something. So he has four tickets. Casey said he's busy with something so I thought you could join us.”
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I had bit my tongue at the terrible framing of words. I wanted you to come. I had been wanting to take you out for a while back then. The concert tickets were perhaps the last gift the skies gave me. I was planning to leave in a few days at most after all.
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“I want you to join us.” I had said. I couldn't mask my desperation then, I remember unconsciously tracing a hand through the ends of your long starlight hair. I remember trying to sear the feeling in the tips of my fingers. So when I left I could kiss the memory of your touch everyday as a prayer of thanks. I would do so with a heart filled with gratitude for letting me experience someone like you.
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I would have to survive with the memory of your touch after I left.
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I wasn't sure I could manage that.
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“I would love to!” you had said. You had teared up then, I never asked you why you had. But I had this feeling it had something to do with Arlo. So I had quietly pulled my henley’s sleeve over my wrist and seeped your tears from the corner of your eyes.
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That night we continued to talk as usual. Of the stars, about our days, about absolutely absurd things we had done in our childhood.
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“Theres no way you did that.” I would tell you, and you laugh smack my arm when you caught a hold of my sleeve. “Yes I did!” you would laugh out.
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You used to sleep in almost every class in school. You never liked reading much, but audio books were your favorite thing.
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“They don't put out anything good these days.” you had frowned that night, and I had mentally made a note to try my best and find something you'd like.
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You had liked sweet things since you were very young. You had almost dropped a shelf on yourself when you were younger while trying to search for something that smelled sweet. You were scared of frogs, the sound of them had shivers climbing your spine, you had told me.
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You liked fast cars, for the wind. You like slow soft music. You liked the lantern festival that was celebrated at the lake downtown, you had told me that was the closest you had ever come to seeing stars.
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“It's because I can still see really bright lights.” We were lying back on the blanket now, my right arm supporting your head. I had made sure to put a comfortable distance between us, the last thing I had wanted was for you to feel uneasy around me.
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“So when they leave the lanterns, they float. I can see it. It's very very fuzzy” you had reached out a hand in front of you, moving it across the canvas of the nightsky. “But it looks like the stars are climbing onto the sky.”
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“So pretty.” I had murmured. I had turned to see the sparkle in your eyes, as you spoke about the festival.
The twinkle in your eye had reached out and played melodies with my heartstrings. I had been so mesmerized with your pure excitement, I had said that out loud unconsciously.
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“It does sound pretty doesn't it? I knew you would like it.” You put your hand down and leaned your head towards me slightly. “Ill take you next year. It'll be so fun.”
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“I can't wait, angel.”
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My arm was growing numb, a prickle breaking out in the palm of my hand, but I didn't dare move. You had spoken all night until you had fallen asleep. I had brushed the strands of your hair that were falling over your long lashes, my skin not even a silver away from your touch.
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But I didn't caress your cheek as I had had the urge to do that night. I didn't leave a soft kiss on your forehead or pull you closer to me.
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I had carefully picked you up and taken you inside. I had laid you down on your bed, covering you with your quilt, removing my hair tie from your hair and placing it on the nightstand beside your bed.
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“Good night angel.” I had whispered, patting the soft quilt that covered your shoulders. You had looked so peaceful. I had been reminded for my purpose once again that night.
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I had left, making sure Aster was asleep in his bed as well, I had let your main door latch itself behind me.
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In the subway back home, I had closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the seat. Remembering your soft breaths as you slept, thinking of your laugh, your frown. Your smile.
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I thought of everything I would be leaving behind if I left. All the moments that I could have made you laugh in the future. All the times you would reprimand me, or praise me. Or simply smile at me, a soft childlike grin that warmed my heart. All the time in the future you would call me by my name, making my chest tight with unriddled joy.
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All those moments I would never be able to see if I left.
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And for the first time that night my decision of leaving had faltered.
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A tear had escaped from the corner of my eyes, running down my temple to bury itself into my hair. The subway had been empty that night.
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I had sat alone on a seat in an empty cabin, crying as I realized, the very thought of spending time with you in the future made me not want to leave.
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You made me want to live, angel.
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For that entire year, you had made me want to live. You had made me want to keep putting one step in front of the other. No matter how painful getting out of bed had been, the thought of seeing you had made me drag myself to freshen up.
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You made me want to live.
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The thought of me staying back had begun to grow in my mind. Its newborn leaves, fresh and green, a fragile stem holding the idea up with all its might.
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And I might have nurtured it, this idea. I might have watered it everyday. I might have done so every time I met you. I might have watched that idea grow and take root in my mind as I laughed with the boys during dinner. I might have watched as the small green sapling grew a wide trunk and tufts of leaves high above. I might have stayed.
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I might have.
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I almost did.
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But then I had this bright idea of going up to his grave one weekend. To talk to Arlo.
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To tell him about how life was changing. To tell him about you, and about how amazing and talented you are. To tell him his best friend was in love. I wanted to go apologize, something I should have done ages ago. I was going to tell him that I would try to live with myself, with this guilt. That I didn't need to date you or tag our relationship with anything heavy. Just being your friend was more than enough.
Simply being able to see you everyday was a blessing.
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I was going to tell him I missed him.
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That was when the skies, who had taken great pity on me up until that moment, decided it was time the script took a turn.
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They had decided I had enough happiness and hope in my life.
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So they had stepped out that sapling of an idea in my mind. I had felt them crush the delicate green stem beneath their heels, when I heard her voice call out to me.
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