Here’s a short story that I wrote in my freshman year
The first day of freshman year is supposed to be a day of excitement, thrill, and a new beginning. But for me, it was anything but that. Instead of feeling the enthusiasm of starting a new chapter in my life, I was weighed down by the heavy burden of my recent diagnosis. My heart felt heavy with a mix of emotions, fear, anxiety, and a deep sense of sadness. The laughter and chatter of my classmates only served as a painful reminder of what I had lost — a carefree, happy life, free of the burden of disease. My heart was breaking, and tears threatened to spill down my cheeks at any moment. Everything changed when I first laid eyes on her. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, with long flowing hair and bright eyes that shone with kindness and warmth. I couldn’t believe it when she approached me, offering to sit with me and keep me company. I was drawn to her beauty and the way she carried herself. It wasn’t long before we started talking and eventually became friends. We spent many days together, talking about everything and nothing but I never told her about my illness. I didn’t want to burden her with my problems. As time passed, I slowly started to fall in love with her even if I knew that I shouldn’t. She was everything I ever wanted in a partner, but I knew that my time is very limited. We gradually started to hang out more and more. I still remember that one time we visited the museum together and I couldn’t help my emotion when I saw that gorgeous dress and that beautiful smile but I managed to hide my affection for her. On Christmas day 2021, she invited me over to her house. We cooked dinner together, played Mario Kart on her Nintendo, and watched our favorite show “Lost in Space”. It was those beautiful times that I had with her that kept me going but I did not see what was coming. As I was switching to another episode, I could hear her take a deep breath as she gathered her courage and spoke from the heart “Hey, I think I’m in love with you”. What was supposed to be the most beautiful moment in my life shattered my heart into pieces. I was torn between my feelings for her and the knowledge that I would soon be leaving her forever. I rejected her for the greater good, knowing that it was the right thing to do. It hurts to see the sadness in her eyes, but I couldn’t bear the thought of her being with me only to suffer the pain of losing me. Tears streamed down her face as she did not expect my answer. Then she smiled in tears and put her arms around my neck as an eternity of silence passed. She apologized for making things weird and potentially ruining our friendship. I felt bad for hurting her, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the truth. That day I went home sobbing after realizing I just hurt the feeling of the girl that kept me striving for life and that those cheerful days with her will not last. I thought to myself that I did the right thing, but maybe just to make myself feel better.
As I locked myself in my room that day, an overwhelming sense of emptiness consumed me. My mind was a chaotic mess, with thoughts racing a mile a minute, each one more agonizing than the last. The weight of my decision was suffocating, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had made a terrible mistake. I replayed the scene over and over in my mind, each time the ache in my chest growing more and more unbearable. I tried putting myself in her shoes, to imagine the pain and the betrayal she was experiencing. Guilt started to sink into my mind bit by bit, it grew stronger every minute, making me paralyze and dwell myself deep in self-blame. I knew that my decision had not only affected her but also myself, and the thought of never being able to make things right with her was crushing. In the following days, I found myself looking forward to class more and more, just so I could explain myself to her. I would arrive early so we could chit chat a bit like we always did, but she never showed up to class. I noticed that I always glanced at her seat once every few minutes hoping she was there, still she was nowhere to be seen. I never saw the point of going to school ever again. Every day felt like a struggle, and I was always tired. But something kept pulling me forward, a tiny glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, she would show up for once. I tried texting and calling her but to no avail. Nevertheless, I decided to pull out my pen and a piece of paper to write a letter for her even with my terrible handwriting (she loves old-fashioned handwritten letters). After writing what seemed to be a typo time after time, everything that I wrote was thrown into the bin. Until I started to realize that I don’t know how to explain myself to her. What I wanted at that moment was not to make it right, but to find closure. I wish I was man enough to tell her. Within just two short weeks, my world came crashing down around me and I was consumed by a deep, dark depression. The worried looks on my family’s faces only made it worse, and my heart broke every time I saw the tears welling up in my mother’s eyes although she never said anything. On one particular gloomy day, I collapsed in my room because my body was weakened by dehydration and a lack of vitamins. It was a wake-up call that shook me to my very core. I knew that I couldn’t go on living a lie, hiding my true feelings any longer. With my heart pounding in my chest, I made the decision to tell her the truth. I was discharged from the hospital the next day, but the weight of my secret was still heavy on my heart. As I made my way to her house, my nerves were shot and my emotions were raw. When I saw her again for the first time in weeks, my heart broke all over again. She looked so frail and thin, as if she had been barely surviving without me. Her once warm and loving eyes were now cold and distant, but still so beautiful. The first word out of her mouth was, "You look like cr*ps." I couldn’t hold back the flood of tears that came rushing out of me, and she started crying too. I explained my illness and how much time I had left, and then finally told her the truth about my feelings for her. She sat there, silent and stoic, listening to every word I had to say. When I finished speaking, I felt like I was on the brink of a breakdown. And then, in an instant, everything changed. She came up to me and gave me the tightest, warmest hug I’ve ever felt in my life. My heart swelled with emotion, and I couldn’t speak another word. My eyes wouldn’t stop tearing up, and my heart raced with a wild intensity that I had never felt before. In that moment, I knew that everything was going to be okay, and that I would always cherish that hug for the rest of my life. As she pulled away from the embrace, I gazed into her beautiful, tear-stained eyes and mustered the courage to ask her the most important question of my life. "Will you spend your days with me for the remaining time I have left?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.She didn’t hesitate for a moment before answering yes. I felt a sense of relief and joy wash all over me. At that moment, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I had finally told her the truth, and now I knew that I wouldn’t have to face my final days alone. We spent the rest of that day talking and laughing, just like we used to. It was as if nothing had changed, even though everything had changed. I was so grateful to have her by my side, to be able to spend my remaining days with the person I loved most in the world. In the days that followed, we made the most of every moment. We went on walks in the park, watched movies, cooked meals together, and simply enjoyed each other’s company. We talked about our hopes and dreams, our fears and regrets, and everything in between. As my time began to run out, I felt at peace knowing that I had lived fully and loved deeply. And when the time finally came, she would be there with me, holding my hand and whispering words of comfort and love. I’m writing this as I lay in my bed, waiting to take my final breath and the last glance at her face. I felt a sense of peace in me. I had refused treatment, knowing that it was too late to fight the disease that had taken hold of my body. But I had no regrets. I had lived a full life, and had experienced a love that most people only dream of.
