| PART 9 It’s been a little over a month since Michael and I committed to each other both physically and emotionally. I’ve never felt so much love from anyone, not even Max. The love that consumes me frightens me only because I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love Michael. I try to show him through my actions because I’ve been unable to tell him. I’m afraid that once those words leave my mouth, he will be snatched away from me like everyone else in my life. I couldn’t bear that. I don’t think I’m capable of mourning anyone else’s death especially someone who has captured my heart as much as Michael has. I quickly roll off the bed and dash for the bathroom. I kneel in front of the toilet as a wave of nausea overcomes me. I must be coming down with something. I’ve been feeling queasy all week, and every time I try to eat something, nothing will stay down. I quietly sneak into the bedroom and grab my journal, just as another wave of nausea washes over me. I lean over the sink and splash cold water on my face. I peek in the room to find Michael sound asleep. I smile. I sit down on the cold tile floor to wait for my stomach to settle down. I grab my journal and begin to write. In three days, it will be Michael’s birthday. I found this out through one of our many flashes. Isabel died on his birthday in his arms. Now that I think about it, our lives are parallel. He considered Isabel as a sister and she died on his birthday. My parents died on mine. Max who was his best friend turned on him when he needed someone the most and Maria did the same to me. Maria had told Michael how much she had loved him, but when he finally returned it, she took advantage of it, just like Max did to me. I want his birthday to be special for him, just like he made mine. He deserves it because of everything, he’s done for me. Michael made me a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow. He was worried about my lack of eating and my constant vomiting. I told him there was nothing to worry about, it’ll probably go away by itself soon, but he said he refused to lose me to some ailment. At least that will give me an excuse to shop for his gift. I stop writing when I see Michael standing in the doorway. He’s rubbing his eyes wearing only a pair of boxers. He looks at me with concern and I carefully stand up. I don’t want the queasiness to return. He grabs my hand and asks, “Are you okay?” I follow him back to bed as his arms surround me. I say, “I am now.” I snuggle closer to him and sleep finally engulfs me. |