I went to visit Irene in the hospital, where I spent most of my day.

She was writing on her notebook, while snuggling on her purple bed when I walked in.

“Hey.”

“Early today.”

 

“I figured you might want some company.” I planted myself on the small sofa.

“It’s getting chilly.” She pulled her covers up a little bit.

“It’s Autumn now. Don’t catch a cold.” 

“Take care of yourself first.” She smiled so softly before she picked up her pen again. I then fished out my iPod and shared it with her. This time, she took the right-side earphone.

We just moved on to do our own thing.

I tried to read my book but I just could not concentrate. I found myself constantly looking for at her, who was serenely writing on her notebook again, even when we were in the same room.

It’s funny. I loved to read. She loved to write. Maybe we were sort of fated. Or not. I didn’t know. I really don’t know.

She was getting smaller, paler, almost like Tinkerbell. That tiny angelic creature. Despite the very fact that she was also weak and breathless.

It’s funny. My name is Wendy. Coming from the same story but we’d never ending up together.

 

“Are you crying?” 

“Yeah, that's embarassing.”

I hated when she saw right through my weaknesses. I hated when I wasn’t strong enough for her.

But I guess she was the one who ever understood me so well. 

 

“And I’m crying because of you.”

She was not surprised. She just stared at me and held my hand.

But I could not look back at her. I was afraid I would just break down.

 

“I don’t like to see you cry.” “Don’t cry.” “Cry after it’s over.” “Promise me.”

 

Hearing her soft voice, I finally managed to look up. Her face was blurry because of my tears. She was angelic.

 

“Okay, I promise.” I clumsily wiped my tears with the back of my hand.

And flashed her a bright smile.

 

That afternoon her family came. I suggested I should give them some private time. Yet she insisted me to stay.

So, I silently sat on the small couch while watching them “talked”.

 

“Irene, we're here.”

She calmly gave them a nod, and a fainted, tired smile.

“Is there anything we can do for you?”

She shook her head.

 

“Only the…... funeral? The way we talked over the phone last time?”

She nodded again.

“Oh, hm, is she your friend?”

Another nod. 

And.

“She is my only friend.”

 

“Irene……… We’re so sorry. We had no choice at that time.”

She abruptly turned her head away. 

So they turned to me, “Hi. We didn't catch your name.”

“Hello, I’m Wendy.”

“Thank you very much, Wendy.” They shook hands with me. 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“Here is my number and if you, or Irene need anything, just give us a ring.”

“Okay, sure Thanks.”

“So, ugh, Irene, goodbye. We need to go now. And Wendy, see you.” They looked at her sadly, probably rethinking all of their decisions in life which led them to leave her alone with that lethal nightmare called cancer.

“Bye.” I ushered them out and went back to Irene whom had kept her blank face on.

 

“You hate them.” I blurted out as I watched them walking out of the hospital. It was pretty obvious.

She did not say a word, her lips pursued into a thin line.

I waited for a while before bending down, then I saw her eyes glistening.

“Hey, I thought you told me not to cry this morning.”

 

And I cupped her face gently. Her orbs trembled vigorously. She was trying so hard to hold back those tears.

“They left me once I turned 18 too.”

I wrapped her petite fragile frame in mine. She quietly sobbed on my shoulder. It’s alright for her to cry. She had every right on earth to cry. 

I just wished I could give her all the warmth and comfort she needed.

 

She pulled away not long after and started coughing. I made sure the machine was working fine.

“Shh…… Easy, breath slowly.” I her back, and encouraged her to gain control of her breathing.

It hurt to see her suffer like that. She closed her eyes in pain and her eyebrows winded.

Her hand gripped the hem of my shirt.

“I’ll get the doctor.” “Just hang in there.”

I wiped the sweat on her forehead and gave her hand a squeeze before running off to get help.

 

The clock was ticking, I knew it.

When I got to see her again, she looked more listless than before.

“Don’t get that emotional again.” I sat on the edge of her bed and tried to joke a bit.

“I won’t see them again anyway.” She cracked a smile.

“Irene, I’m still here.” I had to let her know.

“I know.” She tilted her head back to me and her smile grew wider. It was still stunning for me. Pulling my heart strings, in a cliche way. I think I also cracked a smile.

 

 

-

 

 

Wendy smiled.

It was the brightest and warmest smile I had ever seen.

I was happy. I was happy to see her smile. 

Although I knew she was not happy at all.

 

I had seen her cry. That’s when I finally understood what people meant by heartbreaking.

Because I knew I was the reason of her tears. And I hated to see her being upse because of me.

I was drawn to her so naturally when we first met. I knew my condition well and making connections with other human beings had been my least favorite thing to do.

So I guess that’s why I was diagnosed as autistic. I didn’t bother to explain since it would not change anything.

No one would like to befriend with a dying girl. Once you get attached then what? Watch her die? 

But I was selfish. I wanted to stay by her side. I wanted her to stay by my side.

 And I made her watch me die.

I did not know what I could offer her. Probably nothing. Feelings, probably. Irrational.

Still, I was glad that she was there. So I knew I wasn’t alone. There was someone who truly understood me, who wholeheartedly cared for me, who really listened to me. Some words that I could not tell her myself.

 

“You really have nothing left to do? Your bucket list?” She carefully asked after a long dead silence.

I thought for a while and pointed with my chin, “Just some writing left.”

I was too tired to move my hands and fingers.

“Can I help or something?” She showed her adorable puppy eyes. She was always thoughtful.

“No.” I answered with a light chuckle. Since she was too cute for me to handle.

“Why?” She jutted her lower lip. If she was really a puppy, she would have a tail wiggling at her back right now.

 

If I was not that sick, I would nip her cheeks and pat her head lovingly. If I was not sick at all, I would tell her how much I love her, see the world with her, grow old with her.

Oh, the things I wanted to do with her.

“'Cause I am writing to you.” I used my remaining strength to say these words.

She was startled.  

“Me?” She even pointed to herself like a kid.

I gave a solid nod.

“And you are not allowed to read it until I……. until I died.”

“I rather not to read it then.” She frowned.  She had rich expressions and I loved them all.

 

“I think you’ll read it soon.” 

“Don’t say it-” 

“So I have to finish it quickly.”

“Ah...... You, hm, shall I hand you your book and pen then?”

“I wanna rest for now.” 

“...”

“But you, stay.”

“Anything you like.”

 

I could feel that she had changed me, bit by bit. Like I found my long-lost true self.

But there were things she could not change. Like the fact that I was dying.

 

 

-

 

 

I held her hand and watched her fell asleep. 

I dare not to move nor to leave. I thought if I let go of her hand, I would never get to hold her again.

 

I used my other hand to text Doctor Temperance not to wait for me, and that he should head home first.

And I turned to look at her. I kept looking, and looking, as if I was trying to carve her into my brain.

I spotted that notebook on her desk from the corner of my eye. So that’s what she had been doing. And it was for me. She had suffered from that damn complication to get that notebook. She was using her remaining strength to write. For me. I felt like crying after knowing how much I meant to her. But I had promised her not to. 

 

I think I knew what she was holding back now.

And why.

“Irene, I love you too.” I caressed her cheek and planted a kiss on her forehand.

 

I finally understood her words. And the words she didn’t say.

I did not leave the hospital that night. 

The price was, to listen all kinds of stories all night, non-stop. Hospitals are filled with ghosts. Most of them died from sickness. And they had a lot to talk about. A 90-year-old dude talked about his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. A middle-aged dude talked about how he regretted smoking and drinking since he was 15. A just retired woman talked about her unhappy married life. A young teen talked about his bright future before having that cancer.

I barely had time to take a nap, being their usual faithful only listener. 

On the other hand, I had to ensure my volume was low that I would not disturb Irene. I had to give some feedback sometimes. 

They would ask about us and I would just tell them I love her. 

 

When Irene woke up the next morning, I was sure that I looked like . So much for staying up the whole night and being bombarded by ghosts.

“Oh, You really stayed.” She rubbed her eyes and yawned. 

“Of course.”

“You looked, hm, tired.”

“This is a hospital, so…...”

“Oh sorry, I forgot about that.”

“Never mind. They are nice.”

“You should go and take a bath. You need some rest too.” She curved her lips into a smile.

“I’ll be back soon.” I reassured her with a smile too.

 

I took a nice shower and got changed back at the asylum. I looked at my own reflection on the mirror. Still looked like . Nothing could change that, I guess.

The doc came in when I was eating breakfast.

“You’re back.” He seemed worried.

“Yeah……” I continued to devour that sandwich.

“How’s Irene?”

“Not good. Frankly.” 

“Take care of yourself, Wendy.” He patted my shoulder.

“I know. I will.” 

“I’m here for you too.”

“I am getting prepared, you know. I am trying to-” My arms went numb and I spilled my milk.

 

I buried my face in my palms. I felt small. I felt useless.

Doc cleaned up for me.  And he ruffled my hair as he always did. Like a father, my father. My father had never done such things to me. I wondered had Irene’s father done so.

“Thanks.”

“It hurts me if anything happened to you two. Both of you.” 

“Now tell me,” I leaned on his broad shoulder, “What happened to you when your wife passed away.” 

 

 

-

 

 

I knew I had to talk Wendy about what happened.

It was the best way to help her get through it. 

She is like a daughter to me.  If I had a child, I wonder if I was that blessed to have such a precious girl as my daughter.

 

“I was at the office when I got that phone call. I cried for 3 days. A grown man, crying, all day and all night.” I laughed at myself. “I could not believe and I refused to. I completely broke down. I wasn’t by her side when it happened. It hurt me more. I let it out because I knew I had to. I drank. I did not resume working for the first 4 months. And I still miss her very much. People die, but they live on in our hearts.”

“Thank you, doc. I don’t think I would forget her too.” Wendy muttered as she stood up regaining her composure.

“Then don’t.” I followed suit.

She took a deep breath as she turned to the window.

“So, she will live on in my heart and live on with me.”