Stay With Me

If in our heart we still cling to anger or anxiety or possessions—anything at all—then we cannot be free.

Why do you say that you love me?" He turns his head in my direction, still frowning. "Because I do," I stammer. "I love you, Noel Walker- everything about you, even when you scrowl at me like you're doing right now. I love you even though you're grumpy and try to shut me out all the time. I love you even though you try your hardest to push me away. I love all the parts of you - the broken parts that you try to hide most of all.

I think that pretty much sums up what love is, though. It’s the person you always want to come back to. I’ve thought about this a lot, and I don’t think home is a place. I think it’s a person. And when you find home, the place you feel the safest, the place you go to for shelter and where you can be fully yourself, then you know you’re in love, really in love, not just infatuated or head over heels in lust.

Some days are worse than others. Some days I’m not just lying in a coffin hearing someone shovel dirt on top of the lid, some days I’m buried miles underground and nothing reaches me, not even sound, just the terrifying roar of silence.

I wish I could reverse time. If I could, I’d go back and change a lot of things. For one, I’d be a better friend to Dodds.” I rock back on my heels and stare down at the ground. Was I even a friend to him at all? “But, the thing is,” I continue, “we can’t go back.” My voice starts to crack. “That’s life’s greatest punishment. We can’t go back and right the wrongs, fix the mistakes, undo the tragedies, change our minds, make different decisions, unbreak hearts, take back words. All you can do is own your mistakes, forgive yourself, and keep on living.

Death is the one great certainty in life. That’s what my dad used to say. Nothing else is certain. Not love. Not happiness. Not your health. If you’re lucky enough to be gifted with these things, which isn’t a sure thing by any shot, they can all be taken from you in an instant, like toys snatched by a jealous child. Or maybe that’s not true. Maybe sometimes the signs are there and you just miss them. Maybe it’s actually your fault if things are taken from you. Maybe love slipped through your fingers because you didn’t seize it with both hands when you had the chance. Maybe happiness was stolen from you because you thought you didn’t deserve it so you pushed it away. Maybe you lost your health because you ignored the glint of sunlight on a windshield.

I want to touch you." Walker says in a low voice. "All over.

I want to be able to see you. I want to look in your eyes the first time I make love to you.

What am I thinking right now?" I whisper. He turns his head to face me. His eyes look smoky gray in the light from the television. "I'd like to think you're thinking about what it would be like if we kissed. Because that's all I'm thinking about." I draw in a breath and hold it. He carries on staring at me, his lips slightly parted in a smile. I've never wanted to kiss anyone so much in my life. "Am I right?" "Yes." I whisper in a croaky voice.

For what It's worth," my dad says with a slight wince, "though I may have seen a little more of Walker then I'd ever have wanted to, I like him. You two obviously have connection.

We're naming this baby after you, I've told Jesús. He wanted Ronaldo after some soccer player, but I said, no, we're calling this baby Noel.

I'm good with my hands. Woodwork, metal work, engines...other things too.

It's going to take a while." I add. "After I've changed the dressing I have to give him a thorough...physical exam." Walker's eyebrows shoot up and he gives me a smirk.