"somewhere other than inside the out there." -- part forty four.
i'll never forget, friday night, it was closing time. the icu had strict hours, and at nine every evening, they kicked us out. that friday night, i was standing by his bed, saying goodnight. i was the only one in the room. it was dark and quiet. i took his hand.
"goodnight, my bean. i'll see you in dreams."
i lifted my hand away, but suddenly, he grabbed it. he grabbed my hand, and he wouldn't let go. i leaned over him, and i kissed his forehead. i said, "i have to go, but i'll be back tomorrow, i promise. i'm not leaving you now, not ever." and his grasp held firm. it was the first time that he had actually grabbed my hand, actually and for real. "i don't want to go, i don't want to. i've got to, they're making me.... oh god, baby, i'm so sorry, but i'll be back tomorrow, and i love you." and his eyes met mine.
but he was still holding it when i tried to lift my hand. a firm grip. for the love of god, he had a firm grip on my hand. it wasn't a siezure, and it wasn't my imagination.
"i love you," i whispered, and he let go of my hand. his eyes drifted back to the ceiling.
when i returned the next morning, he wasn't present in his eyes.
i think that was the last time i ever really saw him alive, truly alive.
