“Can you play for me?” her voice barely a whisper. Her room was so quiet except for the sounds coming from the machines, that he caught what she said and took a hold of his guitar. He propped it against his lap, and she said, “You look the coolest with a guitar.”

She tried to smile, but speaking already took so much of her energy that he just took her hand in his and gave it a slight squeeze. Telling her that it’s okay. Letting her know, without the use of words, that it’s fine. He smiled for her instead.

“Can you play Wherever You Will Go by –” she started to speak once she had enough energy, but he cut her off, “I know who it is by, but I can’t play it for you. I can’t. I won’t.”

It felt like someone clasped an iron fist on his heart. It hurt him so much to be losing her like this. Tears fell onto his cheeks, and onto his guitar.

“Please,” she begged him. “I want to hear you sing again.”

A few tears turned into choked sobs, and for the first time since he has known her, he cried his heart out. He cried, and cried, and cried, until he had no more tears to shed. He was tired, and so was she. Her heart, too, was hurting beyond words, and now that he was crying by her hospital bed, she didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. It felt like someone took away her world and crushed it in front of her eyes.

He took a shaky breath in, and started playing his guitar to the song. He played the song many times before, so he knew the chords and the words by heart. He started singing.

So lately, been wondering
Who will be there to take my place
When I'm gone, you'll need love
To light the shadows on your face

If a greater wave shall fall
And fall upon us all
Then between the sand and stone
Could you make it on your own?

If I could, then I would
I'll go wherever you will go
Way up high or down low
I'll go wherever you will go

And maybe I'll find out
A way to make it back someday
To watch you, to guide you
Through the darkest of your days

His hands stopped playing the guitar. He couldn’t breathe. He placed it next to her bed, walked out the door and left her side. He needed air. Badly.

She had no energy to cry, but she was tearing up inside. She wanted to hate everything for doing this to him, and to her. It wasn’t fair. But she came to terms with all the unfairness a long time ago. If she didn’t have cancer growing inside her head, she wouldn’t have met him in the hospital nearly a year ago. If her brain cells weren't multiplying at an alarming rate, she wouldn't have visited the oncology department again, and she wouldn't have passed by a room in which its handsome occupant was playing a guitar. She wouldn’t have known the beauty that he saw in the world. She wouldn’t have discovered the beauty that was in him.

She was thankful for that. She was thankful for that day when she passed by his room, strumming on his guitar, singing about a once unsung pain. She was thankful that He brought him into her life when she was just exiting it.

And at that moment, like him, she had no more tears. She felt sleepy. She desperately needed him to hold her hand. ‘Maybe later,’ she had thought. ‘I’m just going to take a nap and wake up when he comes back,’ she thought again as she slips into a deep, dark abyss that she never got