Never Regret

I remember each detail of that day perfectly, as though you were examining it through a magnifying glass.
It was a warm, sunny day in June. There was a light breeze that carried on it the petals from the last of the late peach blossoms.
You came by my house at exactly nine o’clock, just like every day before then. I was reading under the sugar maple tree, just like I had every day before then. But that day, you noticed me.
Hello there, miss. You smiled at me for the first time, though there would be many more. Even though I saw you every day, it wasn’t until then that I noticed your apple green eyes.
Oh. Good morning.
You got off your dull silver bicycle, handed me the newspaper, and you were gone as quickly as you came.
But you stopped at the end of the block and looked back, tipping the edge of your paper boy’s hat as you went.

You came by again later that day… one your way home, I suppose. I saw you through the window. You saw me too, and waved for me to come out.
I looked around. No one was there, so I slipped out the door.
I thought… since I come by here every day, I thought I should introduce myself. My name’s Oliver. You stuck out your hand for a handshake.
I’m Annette. I smiled and took your hand.
Can I call you Anna?
Sure. Can I call you Ollie?
Sure. Nice to meet you!
I heard your stomach growl. Your face turned pink, and you laughed slightly.
On your way home, I guess.
Actually… I have to get to my other job.
Really?
Yeah… I have two sisters and—
How long do you have before you have to work?
What? About an hour, I think.
Why don’t you come in for lunch?  I smiled.

But that was only one day.
I looked forward to when you would come by at exactly nine o’clock. Even when you didn’t have time to talk, I was waiting there for you. I was happy just to see your smile. I was happy every day from then until late September.
Then there was one day you didn’t come. I sat at the window from morning till night, staring out into the rain, waiting for your silver bicycle to turn the corner. But you never came.
The next day, I never saw you.
You didn’t come by the day after that, either.
Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months and I couldn’t wait any longer.
I was getting sick.
I was dying.

I lie in a white bed in a white room.
The whole place smells like sickness, but I don’t complain. I don’t want my parents to worry about me more than they already do.
I feel like I’m suffocating. Fact is, I am. Each time I cough, it’s like my chest is going to explode. My hands are stained red from the blood that I have choked up.
I don’t need a doctor to tell me that I’m dying.
At least if I die, I won’t feel pain anymore. But I don’t want to die yet… I want to be able to see you again, one last time.
It’s been five years. I let my mother and the rest think I’ve forgotten about you… but I think of you every day. Every day, I miss you more.
I stare at the ceiling, trying to find something to look at in the blank emptiness.
I hear a tiny sound cut the air—the sound of the door handle turning. I twist my head to see who’s there.
“Ollie,” I want to shout, but my throat is dry and I can barely breathe. I stumble out of bed and try to walk as best I can, only to fall into your arms. I can’t hold back the tears anymore, so instead I bury my head in your jacket.
“I’m so sorry, Anna! I got a new job so I didn’t get to stop by your house anymore, and by the time I got a chance to, you were nowhere to be seen. I asked your neighbors what happened, and they said you were sick! I’ve been looking everywhere for you since then! Do you know how worried I was?”
I can’t say anything, I’m sobbing too much.
“I thought you were dead, Anna.”
“I thought I was, too,” I can only manage a whisper.
I squeeze your hand as you stroke my hair. Your smile hasn’t lost any of it’s kindness, your eyes still hold the same enchantment.
“Oh. Here, I brought you some flowers,” you say with a grin and hand me a bouquet of daffodils.
“Thank you—“ I barely finish my sentence before I am taken over by another coughing fit. My knees buckle and  I fall to the floor.
Soon, the coughing has subsided, but I’m still breathing heavily. I crawl back into the bed and almost instantly fall unconscious.

I wake up in the dark. Just the tiniest bit of moonlight streams through the window.
I feel life slipping away from me. I struggle to hold onto each breath. I know I only have a few minutes left.
I look around the room. The flowers you brought me were sitting in a vase on the table beside the bed. You are asleep in the uncomfortable wooden chair in the corner.
I pluck the most perfect daffodil from the glass container and lift it to my nose. Before I can ever smell it, I burst out coughing.
I see you stir from you sleep.
Ollie. My mouth is so dry, I can’t say anything.
You stand up and sit on the edge of the bed.
By now, tears are pouring from my eyes. I have so much I want to say to you, but I can’t even get enough air as it is.
Instead, I grab a paper from the bedside table and write on it with the blood on my fingers. I hand it to you and pray you can read in the dark.
Now you’re crying, too. “I love you, Ollie,” you whisper the words on the page. You take me up in your arms and kiss me… all my pains go away.
I draw in one last breath, drinking in your essence to remember in the next life. My head falls back onto the pillow and I fold my hands over the yellow bloom.
Everything turns black.

All humans must die… it is why we are mortal. But not everyone is a lucky as me—I died happy.