I Don't Need To Say I Love You
Dougie,
Do you remember the stars?
I do.
It was November. You were sixteen, and I was fifteen. It was five degrees outside and we were sitting on the riverbank. There was a badger scurrying across the grass and the smell of the rain on the concrete road behind us circled the air. You were wearing your old ripped jeans and your black and grey hoodie. I was in my pyjamas, my dressing gown wrapped around my shivering body. Your arm was wrapped around me as you kissed me on my forehead. It was the early hours of the morning and the sky was covered in a million stars.
You told me that every single star in the sky meant something, had its purpose. Stars were like people, you said. Every star was different and every one deserved to be beautiful, no matter where they came from, how old they were, or what others thought of them. The galaxy was a huge place for a little star. It was impossible to become something when, in reality, you were just a tiny piece of rock. You said that I was something, that I was a pretty damn determined star who would make an impact on the entire galaxy. No doubt about it.
Leaving you wasn't easy; I knew it wouldn't be. What I had though, it wasn't a disease. Not in my eyes. It was just a sign that some stars are stronger than others and every star had its time to leave the sky. I wasn't hurting when my time came, I want you to know that.
Do you remember later that November night? You told me that you weren’t a star though? You were a meteorite, crashing to earth at an alarming speed. Nothing but a tainted chunk of old rock. Useless. You weren’t useless. You’re not useless. You’re the reason I am who I am, the reason my life was worth living.
Sure, you made mistakes, but so did I. My God, did I make mistakes. I put my needs in front of your own and I didn’t even stop to think once about the pain in your heart. That’s why I’m writing this now.
I’m sorry for every single time I pulled out your heart and toyed with it as though it was nothing but an internal organ.
Do you remember when they said my cancer was terminal? My throat was dry, my mind was blank, and my head was rapidly spinning. The first thing that you said was to look on the bright side; the doctor who'd treated me was hot. That was when I laughed. I always loved a bit of dry humour.
I heard that you cried once they turned the machine’s off. You never cry. You told me that crying is for girls and blokes in strait jackets. I was never too sure about that last one, but I went along with it because I adored the words you spoke, whether they made sense or not. I can’t hear your voice anymore; I don’t know if I ever will. I’m trying to keep myself optimistic though, I knew that’s what you’d tell me to do if you were here.
It was 3:15am now. You were fast asleep, my head rested against your warm chest. The badger had disappeared by now, and the smell of damp was slowly weakening. I didn’t want to wake you because it was the first time you’d shut up in hours. You really do talk a lot and, quite frankly, you should never stop. When you speak, I feel like laughing and crying at the same time. You're always there to make me smile, to make me the luckiest star in the sky.
I am the luckiest star, Dougie. Ever since the day my eyes were locked into yours, I was the luckiest star. Every other star may have been bright, beautiful and eye-catching. Not every star had you though. That’s how I was different. That's what made me the luckiest star. I don’t need to say I love you, or tell you that I can’t imagine life without you. You already know that. Besides, I know how you hate corny stuff. Just remember,
Ti yw fy seren, Dougie. Always, all ways.
Zoey.
