I had a friend once... We were practically inseparable. He was like the sun itself when he smiled. So blindingly bright but beautiful to look at. I knew one day I would marry him. That someday I'd be able to call Wade mine. I'd be able to run my fingers through his blonde hair like I'd always Imagined...

    No one was expecting it when he was finally diagnosed. Not that there were many that cared for him and would need to know. He was so mysteriously social yet urgent to push new persons away. I almost wonder sometimes if maybe he knew. Maybe he'd known all along that he'd someday have to let them all go.

    I can still remember the way he'd spoken to me, the way he'd asked me last second if I'd come with him into the office because he didn't want to be left alone. He'd always been a brave person in my eyes, someone there that would protect me when we were together... Yet there he was, staring at me, this weak, lanky boy like somehow I'd be able to hold him up if everything came tumbling down. "Peter." He'd said. His eyes looked so blue. Like a pure reflection of the sky in a still lake, small trees outlining the island that were his pupils. His voice didn't tremble, but you could see. I could feel his urgency.

    He'd always been scared of being left alone. I never allowed him to be fearful. I stayed by his side every day and every week. By this time there was no more blonde hair for my fingers to delicately comb through, but I still pretended like there was. I still called him mine and promised that once this was all over that I'd give him my name, he wouldn't let me beforehand. He'd always say "God Dammit Peter. If I'm at My Wedding then I sure as hell better be standing. I'm not going to accept our vows sitting my ass in a wheelchair."

When the treatments still weren't working he'd still look to me and tell me everything would work out. That he'd fight his way through it. I believed him. I believed every word he said, He was strong. I knew he could pull himself out of it. He'd fight off the sickness like a banter. Just when I'm positive I'm going to win the match he shoots me a quip that blasts me right out of the water.....

God, I wish I could remember his voice.

I wish I would have looked through his lies, I wish I would have let myself see the despair that was there every time the treatments failed him. Maybe I would have been more ready. I might have been more accepting when I woke up in limp arms and a heart monitor screeching in my ear.

I wish I could have just said goodbye...