Unrequited

Have you ever loved someone to such an extent that the intent of calling them your whole world isn't enough? Because it's tough to take something so complex as love and give it some sort of physical pretext. So, words struggle to form in your head because how can you find the words for her form. Is her hair as golden as the radiant sun or is its hue more a straw-colored one? She becomes to beautiful for your feeble attempts at comparison and the metaphors struggle to come. Trying to compare the incomparable winds up creating cliched parables that sound more like the writings of maniac than the clever romantic. The hair being impossible to describe, let alone the pale blue-maybe grey-eyes even harder still, a beauty unattainable in words like Helen of Troy, you retreat to the feelings that make you feel like a boy. Again, you're stuck with nothing but overused tropes of butterfly-infested stomachs and how without her you are at the end of your rope. How does one even put such feelings into lines of prose? Why did you think you'd be able to match the literary pros?  Fractured sentences and fragmented ideas are swept into a pile whilst you still struggle all the while. It has become a love dug deep into the heart where the truest feelings begin to seep. Because whether her hair is golden or straw, her eyes blue or grey, you hem and haw looking for words buried in the dictionary to express a love that is anything but ordinary. But in the end the entire struggle was to no avail because there was no hope for you to ever prevail. A heart is put on a sleeve, a naive hope is held onto to believe. A fleeting belief that love still exists between the muse and yourself. Feelings are stored on a shelf in a hope to be shared with her again because they still consume so much of your world. But the love has been replaced by pain and that pain replaced by regret, and the regret, well that's replaced with a hope that you'll be able to forget. Be able to leave behind the longing and wondering, wondering if it'll ever be all right. If maybe you could some how forget the softness in her voice when she said good night or how when the conversation seemed to stop, so did the whole world with it. It's hard not to imagine how her smile seemed to somehow send chills down my spine, yet all I wanted was it to be the only image in my mind. And yet for all these feelings it's hardest knowing they aren't returned and may never be, but somehow that's fine with me.

Drifting

     It's hard to explain the sensation of being stranded in the middle of the universe. And I don't mean some far away planet or some backwards concept that somehow our little pebble is the center of All. The best thing I can think of to describe it is, have you ever been out swimming out in a large body of water? You know that part you get to where your feet no longer touch the ground, but just sort of dangle there. There's still a sense of things around you, you can feel the water currents, the air, your own body moving. But out there stuck in the final frontier there's nothing, your whole body just dangles there in space with nothing supporting you.
      So, some backstory would probably help explain as to why I'm here, but honestly...I don't even really remember, I remember being asleep and then I'm here. Was I part of some alien abduction gone wrong? Was the spaceship low on fuel so they had to jettison something and gave me the cargo treatment? I've been here for about a week and there's been no salvage mission so I don't think I'm lost cargo. You'd think if you're gonna use resources to get something you wanna make sure you get it right? Plus I don't see any planets nearby, but then again they could have used hyperspace...or is it hyperdrive? Light speed?...maybe ludicrous speed....look honestly I have no idea how my car works, let alone space travel.
     And that's it I guess. I know it's anti-climatic, but next time you black out and wind up in the middle of space I'd like to hear your version of events. Not that I could hear it because there's no sounds in space, which makes my attempts at crying for help pointless, but the indomitable human spirit prevents me from not trying. Maybe I'm not human though, it might help how I survived the vacuum of space. I still have no real idea on that one, All the studies I've done (i.e. making an educated guess based on observation) I'm like 95 percent sure I'm human....maybe 85 percent.... The only other thought I had was maybe I was some sort of celestial being given physical form. A powerful entity meant to restore order to the cosmos like Galactus or Thanos. .....Wait those are both bad guys aren't they?
     In any case, I highly doubt that as a possibility because if it were true I think I'd be able to move in some fashion other that aimless drifting. It has given me an incredible amount of time to think about things though or at least I feel like I've had a long time because in space time literally does not care about you. To the universe, currently, I am like a bag in the wind....some random chunk of garbage that will soon flutter on to bother someone else. The feeling isn't that bad though, I'm honestly a lot happier than I have been in awhile. I mean, yeah, there was tons of stuff I still wanted to due back on Earth, but I was also a twenty-something struggling artist who had nothing, but a cell phone, empty wallet, and for some reason a pack of matches to his name when he was expelled into the ether. If art is supposed to be about seeing the universe differently and achieving higher thought or whatever snooty people are saying these days then I've at least succeeded in something.
     I don't know if I really want to go back to Earth though. I did say there was stuff I wanted to do, but tons of people have stuff they want to do and never do. Can't really blame a guy for giving up when there's no real solution, it's not even giving up then is it? I mean if I was captured by some alien race then I could fight back. Theoretically speaking of course because I'd have some enemy to against, a face to the evil, but there isn't so I can't. It's a bit fatalist, sure, but I'm also a realist. A realist artist seems like an oxy moron, but I do what's real. Hell if I even know what's happening currently is real, could all be just some severe reaction to a bad bowl of ramen or whatever. Who knows....I don't really know what this is all supposed to be, a good bye note or something maybe. No matter what it is, how are people even going to see this?
     Whatever, all I know is that in my brief, or long again no sense of time, out here in nothingness I don't think I've learned any big life lessons or universal truths to pass along to whoever this gets this. Sorry, man, if I had something I'd definitely share it, but sometimes things just happen in this universe and you just happen to be caught up in something. Wait, maybe there's the lesson I was supposed to learn. Shit happens.......did I do it? Is this one of those "solve the puzzle and be set free" deals? Nevermind, no one's even listening. To whoever gets this message promise me this....promise me you'll tell someone, anyone, you love them. Sorry, again, if you were expecting something more important, I don't have a wife or anything for you to give a dying message to....so I don't know make something up, you're smart. I assume you're smart because you somehow got this message and if you're not smart then whatever still go find someone to love...or something. I honestly don't care, love is complicated so follow your heart.

Tired Eyes

Tired eyes stare at blank pages
Time passes by fading into the ages
Desperation tries to force perspiration into inspiration

Darkness seeps into the bones
As weary minds dream of home
Exhausted minds fight the binds of time

A quiet voice makes a quiet plea
Something to help them flee
Escape the pain the seems to come without gain

Tired eyes slowly close shut
Their time, finally up
A lost fight, but never a fruitless plight

Reflections

     Have you ever wondered if there's something more to mirrors? Like maybe behind the glass is some sort of alternate world that could be entered if you only knew how. I remember as a kid I used to stand sideways in front of the mirror and try to look at it out of the corners of my eyes. Maybe, just maybe, I could trick the man in the mirror into thinking I wasn't looking and then if I could only just catch him moving I'd have a way into this secret world.
     It's a surreal experience sometimes if you take the effort to just stare into a mirror. Take out all noise and external influences, strip it all down to just you and "yourself", if it can be called yourself. Mirrors really offer us a strange look at ourselves because we only see a reflection and that reflection is changed by our various perceptions...so what are we really seeing? Is it what everyone else sees, some idealized version of ourselves, or even a worse version depending on your self-esteem? Whenever I reached my hand out towards the mirror I wished it would reach back and pull me in.
     I never could imagine what to expect once I crossed through, would it be a whole other world? Or would I be trapped in a permanent state, stuck to that one mirror? I still sometimes wish I could transport somewhere else like that. Just go someplace completely unknown and find something totally new, strange, and all together fascinating.

Weighted Words

The say poetry is a great way to bear your soul, but is the picture we get really whole? Constructed

sentences and grammatical rules force the images and ideologies into the confines of reality. All because we

are tying to be as real as we can be. Words chosen with precision and hopeful decisions that what we say

and when we say it makes some sort of tiny difference, trying to build up some sort of self-defense by tearing

down this emotional wall. That somehow the feelings that made up its mortar would also fall, yet as it all

tumbles down the world appears that much more terrifying all around. Another trust shattered, another heart

broken. Another wall built, another set of words carefully spoken. Hoping this time to permit the vulnerability

without the risk of facing that same sense of fragility. No longer tearing down entire walls, but instead building

little windows and doors. Allowing a look inside and visitors to come and go, but preventing any of the hurt

that came before.

Ghost Towns

     It all began with a loud bang. Tyler woke up rubbing his temples, trying to fight off the light that was violently pervading his eyes. He shifted and sat up in bed taking a glance around  the room. Something was off. It was hard to tell what, but the colors seemed a hue off, the blues were more teal and the reds more orange. Confusing as it was, Tyler forced himself past it and towards his dresser to rummage for today's outfit. A grunge-y, outdated band reference and a hand-me-down pair of hand-me-down jeans. Pair that with threadbare Converse and the Seattle cliche was fully accomplished.
     The morning all together was very confusing as Tyler fought through his faded memories trying to recollect what had happened last night. He sat down at the table glaring so intently at his bowl that to an outside observer it looked like he was trying to move it telepathically. Something had happened, but he couldn't remember what and there were no clues as to what had happened and what is currently happening. Why were the colors so off? And why did his mouth taste steely? Frustrated and angry, he threw his empty bowl into the sink despite never putting anything in it and took his phone out of his pocket to investigate.
     Blank screen after blank screen popped up no matter what he opened. Texts, Facebook, e-mail, no matter what Tyler plunged into he always came up empty. Just what the hell was going on he growled. Angrily, Tyler shoved the phone back into his pocket and grabbed his backpack, walking out the door and turning towards school. No messages from friends or even his girlfriend gnawed at the back of his mind ceaselessly. He wasn't super popular, but he had friends and people to talk to. Reaching up and rubbing his throat as the dryness made a bad enough itch that even a hard swallow didn't do anything to soothe it, Tyler's anger quickly subsided into nervousness and panic. Had people figured out what happened?
     At school things grew even more off, instead of the cacophony of shuffling feet and useless teenage chatter all that could be heard was what sounded like people trying to talk underwater. It made less and less sense as he progressed forward, he was used to being ignored or glossed over but this was a new extreme. Tyler stopped near his locker and stared down the hallway with the look of a man who's been through war. A vacant face and slightly agape jaw as his sanity was slipping away that day. Can anybody hear me? He called out into the hall and was returned with nothing but the loud silence. Clutching his head in confusion and pain he shuffled to his locker swapping books from his locker with his backpack and headed to class, slumping down in his chair. Focusing was impossible since he couldn't understand a word.
     All day his head was swimming. Tyler couldn't tell if this was real or just one big dream, but it seemed to elaborate to be either one. He could hear people talking, or at least the muffled sounds that he assumed where talking, but no one could hear him. Class after class went by, silence after silence, burrowing deeper and deeper into his chest until everything in him resonated with a silent echo. The vibrations felt like they were going to tear him apart from a molecular level and by the time lunch rolled around he had reached that tearing point. Clenching his fists and digging his nails into his palms he sat at his table looking like he was building up energy, body shaking in tension. After a moment of charging, Tyler released what can only be described as a primal scream, no intelligent meaning or thought behind it. It was just a shout into this emptiness, a pouring out of not emotion but energy. Energy that was searching for some sort of resonance, something that it could bounce off of and acknowledge it's existence. Something that wasn't meant for fear or intimidation, but a desperate plea for help crying out for someone to look it's way.
   He sat at his spot shuddering a bit from exhaustion. Tyler eventually slowly stood up exhausted, grabbed his backpack, and exited the school. His head was pounding furiously in it's own desperate attempt to make itself known. The throbbing started throwing flashes of light, brighter than what came off of atomic bombs, in his eyes. Cascading flashes and bangs inside of his head grew in intensity until Tyler collapsed without so much as a faint warning. It just grew and grew in mere moments before dropping him. What little color was left slowly faded out, the light flashes themselves eventually grew dimmer as Tyler's eyes dropped and closed.
    Suddenly and violently Tyler stiffened and shot into an upright sitting position futilely fighting for air. Everything was still silent except for his lungs screaming out in pain and it took a few moments for Tyler to realize he was back at home in his bed. He clutched  his head again and shutting his eyes tight hoping that he could somehow force restart his brain and make everything normal again. It was hard to focus on the reboot though because his hands were shaking, fingertips rattling against his forehead. Nervously he opened his eyes again, finding the color had returned to his world. Shuddering and fidgeting he shifted his body out of bed ready to try standing until his foot kicked something on the ground. Once again things felt silence and all Tyler heard was the pounding of his chest as he stared at the ground. A now empty bottle of medications lay at his feet and everything came back to him.
     Well not exactly everything, but enough fragmented memories to make a collaborative narrative that pieced together the last few days. His breathing suddenly became shallow and his muscles weak. Tyler grabbed the bottle and stood up, tightening his grip around the bottle and gritting his teeth as he felt the plastic start to give a bit. He didn't know which felt worse: the knowledge that he actually tried or the fact that even in this he couldn't do it right. The bottle was quickly thrown away as Tyler went to his mirror hoping to find a reflection other than his own in their. For better or worse what he saw was something else, it wasn't quite a reflection of himself, but more of a ghost wearing his body. Haggard eyes and skin that seemed like it was barely holding, not drooping but clinging to his face listlessly as if it's only reason for hanging on was so it didn't have to exert the effort of getting back up if it were to fall.
     It was hard to tell if this was a hallucination or if this was what Tyler had really become. He knew things had slipped in the past few weeks, but with his reluctance to face it he had no idea how far he had slipped. He couldn't even remember if the school experience was real or what day it was, everything was a blur. His reflection held his gaze as if they were two separate people looking at each other through a window, an unnerving stare that wanted to remind him of his sins and weigh him down with it. Tyler turned from the mirror with no real sense of what to do or where to go. Standing there in silence, he was lost in the truest sense of the word. No idea where he was, where he was going, or even who he was anymore. Something had changed and snapped inside of him, but he didn't know what. He swung his heavy head to the side looking out the window, hoping for maybe some sort of sign from some sort of God. When his plea was again returned with silence he opened the top drawer of his dresser pulling out the small pistol his father had gotten him for "safety reasons".
     Click. It all started with a loud bang.

   

Silent Tragedy

A tangle of emotions
Webs of passion and intensity

Burning inside a restless mind
Tossing and turning with ferocity

A mixture of love and hate
Burdening a heavy heart

Unable able to make the simplest decisions
Caught up in it from the very start

A cavalcade of voices
Drowning out all other sound

Digging deeper and deeper into the soul
Soon clouding up everything that's around

A lonely boy sitting alone
Forcing these things down into the deep

Echoing from the dark recesses
Silent tragedies for him to keep

Rusted Heart

A rusted heart beats weakly
Echoing against brittle bones

A sour soul, consumed completely
By the fear of being left alone

A voice cries out in desperation
Longing to be heard amidst the void

A crumbling body in desolation
Stretching out to save what's destroyed

A desperate plea for recompence
To save the husk of former life

A chance for death's benevolence
Ending the time of strife

Foul Cigarettes

Foul cigarettes
Lingering taste

Smells clinging
Never leaving

Somber memories
Welling up

Broken soul
Shattered eternally

Pieces scattered
Restless recovery

Rebuilding structures
Ancient past

Endless wandering
Foul cigarettes

Gas Station Breakfast: Chapter 8

     Sam stood outside the car, remaining motionless and awkward. He was so confident about approaching her on the drive up, but the closer they got the more his hands grew shaky. It was hard to describe the immense terror that was overtaking him now, the fear that she would reject him. The fear that his actions were terrible enough that her only response to him would be a forceful and audible slap to the face and then door slamming. What if her parents opened the door first? Did they even know about him? It seemed wholly awkward to Sam now, meeting her, as they'd only seen each other virtually but no one else around them had except maybe in static photos that they shared with friends. Even Glenn seemed apprehensive at her existence in the beginning, where Remi's friends the same?
      Sam couldn't calm his mind down, rattling off questions and fears sounding like gunfire in his head. Never had the urge to just abandon the quest been stronger. He slumped against the side of the car feeling his chest get tight. The occasional person walking by made him feel extra awkward as he leaned against his car. For one he looked weird in that position and two being parked outside a closed establishment with a look of terror isn't very normal. He looked a bit like Charlton Heston in Planet of the Apes, screaming into the air about a destroyed statue of liberty. Sam felt like that too, except his statue of liberty was much more metaphorical than literal. His statue was the content way he had lived life and the apes, or more appropriately ape since it was only one person, was Remi who blew it up without even thinking about or realizing it.
      "So....are you going or not?" Glenn said getting out of the car, slamming the door which finally snapped Sam into reality.
      "Huh? Sorry....I just gotta gain my composure." Sam stood up straight again.
      "If that's what we're waiting on then this might take awhile." Glenn smiled and laughed, "Need me to come with?"
      Sam took a moment to respond, "Uhh....sure. It's probably better, you know in case something happens." He lightly tapped his chest.
      Glenn nodded and rounded the car giving Sam a pat on the pack. Sam felt embarrassed that even now being so close to Remi, he still needed help in getting to her. Love conquers all is total bullshit, fear conquers all. Except Glenn, nothing conquers Glenn but a fastball coming low and inside. He could however just tighten his grip a bit and at least make an attempt. Sam couldn't, not even in a metaphorical sense. It still took extra time for Sam to start moving and Glenn waited patiently. When he was finally able to break the barrier and move that first leg, they were on their way. As short of a distance as it was, the path seemed to grow longer with every step that Sam took.

The Last Month

     Sam woke up in a haze the next morning. It had been awhile since he'd had such a busy day, a doctor's appointment AND support group. That's a whole two things he had to do, up quite a lot from his usual zero. School really didn't count as a thing anymore since he was either babied by the teachers all coddling the poor sick kid or when Sam got tired of that he stayed home and was babied by his mother. The nice thing about cancer was any day can be a sick day and no one really gets mad at you for skipping. Except Glenn, who without Sam had no one to incessantly annoy. He still made it a point to visit after school though, as well as a few faceless others. Sam had a small contingency of friends, but none of them had been the kind of "after school friends" most other people have which was fine for him.

     Saturday, however, meant he wouldn't have to worry about any of that. With Spring coming back around Glenn went back to baseball practice and was thus detained from bothering Sam, who had important phone/Skype calls to make. It still felt a bit awkward from his talk with Stacii last night and the organized kidnapping between her and Dr. Sureesh. The Group session was forced, but like most events in Sam's life it was the push he needed in the right direction the only difference this time being it wasn't Glenn pushing him. Or maybe it was and this sadistic plot went far deeper than Sam could imagine. In any case, he rolled out of bed running a hand through his hair as he searched through his closet and drawers for clothes. Usually he just wore pajamas in his calls, but given the gravity of the situation and the fact that it was midday he figured a little higher fashion was in order. With jeans and a t-shirt and a quick shower later he was sitting at his desk with his laptop up in front of him. Sam fished a phone off his dresser and opened it up to quick flick through texts and anything else he could think of to kill time.

     When it finally came time to face his fears, Sam stared into his reflection in the blackness of the screen. There were some dark circles under his eyes and his skin was a bit pale, he worried about looking too sick to Remi but it's hard not to look sick when you are sick. After some short, but ultimately useless, readjusting of his look Sam woke up his computer and readied everything for the call. He pulled out his phone again to text her and make sure she was awake and/or available.

      "Morning sunshine :)" Sam hated using emoticons, but as with most things he was uncomfortable with the thought of using them with Remi made it at the very least bearable.

      "Who is this?"

      Sam was a bit taken aback, "New phone number?"

      "No"

      "Is this Remi?"

      "This is her phone, but she is currently out of commission."

      "What is that supposed to mean?"

      "It means she's passed out dude, you must be the boyfriend."

      He felt embarrassed that that word was being used, "And if I am?"

      "Don't worry, she's fine just drunk. She'll come to in a couple hours. I'll leave her a note from you, K? What do you want to say?"

      "Nothing, just have her call or text me." 

      "K"

       And with that the conversation ended. For some reason Sam felt unreasonably angry though. In his time of need she was out partying and drinking. It was understandable, she was the antithesis to Sam and was more prone to these types of activities and in fact had told Sam about it before, which wasn't a problem then, but now suddenly it was. Sam was dying and she didn't seem to care, even though at this point she had no idea since Sam hadn't told her. Maybe it was a product of irrational and immature thoughts, but Sam could do nothing except put the blame on Remi instead of himself. It wasn't the healthiest of choices, but she had been so perfect up to this point maybe Sam's subconscious was looking for a fault, a crack in the foundation. If she was just as damaged as him then she was nothing special and maybe Sam could break free without hurting her. What he failed to realize from the start was that she was just as damaged as him, she always had been.

      The unfortunate side effect from all of this was that Sam had built her up to such a station and this small crack brought everything crashing down at once. All of a sudden this enamored and romantic idealism he had in his head was replaced with unfettered hate and rage. He was the broken one dammit and she was supposed to be perfect, the one who would hold him up. In a case of reversed roles he was the damsel in distress and she was supposed to be the white knight, but in reality they were both the damsel and they were both each others knight. Sam provided the stability that Remi needed, a break from the partying, and Remi provided the spark of life and passion that Sam needed, a break from the monotonicity of a recluse. They just happened to both crash at the same time. With Sam unable to provide support and Remi desperately trying to the strain was evident when she finally came to later. 

      Conversation started normally for them, but there was a definite edge to Sam's voice that made Remi wince when he said hello. And that initial introduction was the high point of their talk. The small talk was awkward, made worse by Remi's slight hangover and Sam's undercurrent of hate.
      "Look, Remi there's something I've been meaning to tell you." For the first time in their conversation his voice softened.
      "Oh?" She sat up facing the camera more, "Wh-...what is it Sammy?" Remi, too, feared an impending break-up given the way things had been going.
      Sam let out a sigh, fighting to find the words, "I..I should've said something sooner, but I uh, dammit why can't I just say it?"
      "J-just take your time Sammy, I'm not going anywhere."
      "Remi, I'm dying....sort of...not really." He sighed again, flustered, as Remi's face was taken over by confusion, "I have cancer, small cell lung cancer to be specific. Which apparently isn't as bad as it sounds according to my doctors. I guess I'm not dying, they haven't given me a time-frame or anything, but I do have cancer."
      "Sammy, shut up for a second. You have cancer? Oh my god, how long have you not been telling me?!"
      "I don't know about...a couple of months maybe" Sam's hate was momentarily replaced by guilt.
      "Months? What the hell? Why didn't you tell me?" This was the first time he'd ever seen/heard her even slightly mad and it was hard to ignore how cute she looked while slightly mad, puffed cheeks and those smoldering eyes.
      "I'm sorry, Remi. I didn't know how to tell you. And I kinda maybe thought you'd dump me or something."
      "Oh lord, you really don't know women or relationships?" She smiled and laughed a bit, "Sammy I love you, I won't abandon you. OK?"
      "Yeah....I just...felt like shit. When you said how you needed me and not to change, it just felt worse. I felt like somehow by getting this I was betraying you. I know, that's dumb, but it's how I felt. I said I wouldn't change, but I kind did.
       "Your body changed Sam, YOU didn't. You're still my Sammy, OK?"
       Sam nodded and from their the conversation was back on track. It felt good to finally tell her and it seemed like everything was OK. There was still a slight tinge of awkwardness, but it felt less damaging than it had before. And after awhile they both signed off, saying good bye. Sam, at least, thought the relationship was now fine and the danger had passed. The next couple days went fine as well, normal conversations and less physical pain. For a moment he was allowed to think he was cancer-free, but next Friday at group he felt the twinge of pain again. It was nothing serious, Sam just figured being in the presence of others with cancer that his had to make itself known.
      This time around, small talk was easier though. Ever since unloading to Remi, everything felt easier to Sam and he was unusually cheery for today at least. He had the support of the woman he loved and even at 17 he felt as if she was The One. The session itself went normally, Sam still didn't speak much but that was par for the course for him and he didn't want to sound braggy about being in love and optimistic. The usual optimism here was usually hollow and when the person speaking optimistically spoke it came with a thousand-yard stare of disbelief.
      "Well you seem in good spirits. Must've told Remi eh?" Stacii approached him as they were done. Again the two of them were alone, but it was less awkward without the suspicion of kidnapping.
      "Yeah, she seemed pretty supportive too. I think it'll be just fine."
      "And how's the actual cancer doing?"
      "OK I guess? I have another scan scheduled for tomorrow so we'll find out what's happening in the world of SCLC."
      "Good." She smiled touching Sam's shoulder, "I'm happy for you."
      It felt awkward again for Sam, most physical touch did. "I hope this doesn't seem rude Stacii, but umm...why are you treating me special? I don't see you talk or act with others like this."
       Her smile didn't waver, almost as if she expected the question, "Because you remind me a lot of Travis. He was smart, handsome, and wildly talented."
       "I think I only fit one of those three." And for once Sam's humor got a genuine laugh.
       "I'd go with handsome then. Anyways, Travis went the way I hope you don't Sam. He became increasingly sheltered and let the cancer win before it even did. He'd given up before he even started treatment and when it came time to finally do chemo his body and heart weren't in it. So, that's why I treat you special. I saw the same thing happening to you and I got scared. Not to sound offensive since this is my job, but people dying isn't a big deal. I came into this knowing that would happen and I feel sad when people die, but I feel worse when people don't try. If you're gonna go down, go down swinging right?"
      "Well, I'm not usually one for sports metaphors but I know what you mean." For maybe the first time in his life, Sam initiated the hug which Stacii readily reciprocated. "Thank you Stacii."
       After that it was again a normal night for Sam. Even the thought of more scans tomorrow didn't bother him. He let Remi know the time and what was going on, then went to bed peacefully. He carried that feeling of contentedness into the morning as he got ready. Sam walked downstairs, zipping up his hoodie, to see his mother at the table. She had taken to sleeping in later, exhausted probably, from figuring out all the adult stuff like financing his treatments. They weren't poor by any means, so paying wasn't an issue, it was still a pain to figure out though.
       "Coming to the appointment Mom?" He asked grabbing his keys out of key bowl.
       "N-no" She sniffled louder wiping her eyes, "It's been a long night Sam."
       "I can tell, but look. I'm fine Mom, they'll probably say I'm cancer free. I've been feeling good lately so that must be good right?" And she nodded in response trying to force a smile, but she wasn't as good at faking it as Sam was. "I'll have the Dr. Sureesh call you as soon as I'm out OK? I'm meeting Glenn for lunch afterwards. Is that OK? Cause I can reschedule."
       "No, no Sam you go have fun. Like I told you from the start, I don't want you to stop doing things just because of this."
       "All right." Sam smiled a bit putting a hand on her back, rubbing it gently, "I'll probably be home sometime around 2 or 3" She nodded again as Sam turned to walk out the door.
       Like most of the routines Sam had settled himself into, arriving at the hospital was no different. He walked and signed in, talked with the nurse, headed into the exam room, talked with Dr. Sureesh briefly, was left alone to change into the abnormally flow-y hospital robe, and then escorted into the MRI room. The only thing different this time was he sneaked his phone in, granted it wasn't well hidden since he just clutched in his hand.
       "Hey, going under now. Text you when I'm done." He texted as fast as he could, before Dr. Sureesh came in trying to be the responsible adult and scold him.
       "You know things like this are dangerous in here Samuel."
       "Yeah, but you're the one who's been pushing me to 'live my life' I'm just text Remi." Sam smiled handing him the phone, "Plus I planned on handing it to you anyways."
       "You're lucky I like you Samuel, now go." He waved his hands towards the MRI and Sam complied, getting situated on the table.
       The scan started and the slight bit of panic and paranoia set in. It's hard not to feel that way laying motionless in a sterile white room as a large machine whirrs and scans your body. There's a very sci-fi feel to it as if this thing is about to digitally scan your body into a virtual world, a world were cancer doesn't exist and light bikes are totally a thing. After the scan, Sam was allowed his phone back and escorted to his room once again to change clothes and get debriefed. There was no response from Remi, which concerned him. She had promised to be waiting for him to get out, he was sure he gave her all the right times but maybe he didn't. He was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt out of either love or naivety or both. Sam wasn't allowed long to dwell on it though as Dr. Sureesh shuffled in looking more somber than usual.
       "Wait, let me guess, you're sad cause I'm cured and you'll never get to see me again?" Sam's brand of terrible humor strikes again.
       "Actually it's the opposite Samuel." They way he said it and the weight of the words hit Sam at different points as he tried to understand what the doctor meant, "Unfortunately the medication is no longer working as well as we'd like. It's started growing on us, so our next move is chemo and radiation...I'm sorry Sam I really thought the medication would be enough, but that's the tough thing about medicine and especially cancer...we never quite know what will happen."
       "No...that's fine. I mean more cancer isn't fine but it's not your fault so don't apologize. Chemo and radiation...." The words echoed in the silence of the room, "At least there are next steps right? I mean that's better than just going onto to pain management and all that right?"
       "I suppose you're right Samuel. You are taking this a lot better than I had expected. Most people are a wreck after this news." The doctor had a small smile on his face, "Those group sessions must be helping."
       "Nah those are useless," Sam smiled, "It's just helpful to have the support of friends and loved ones, blah blah blah, all that Hallmark crap. Is it OK if I get going though? I don't mean to rush, but I gotta meet Glenn."
       "No no that's OK Samuel. I don't want to hold you back. I am going to review everything and we will call you to set up your appointments OK? It's not too bad yet, so I'm just going to up your meds a bit and we'll come back to this in a few weeks." He handed Sam a new prescription list as they headed out.
       Still no response from Remi, which now started to worry Sam but he had no time to ponder over it as he pulled out of the parking lot. He only had an hour or so before Glenn had to leave for an away game and they usually met for some greasy diner food before hand. From a sophomore health class Sam could've sworn he remembered that grease and sports don't mix well, but it's hard to get some people out of their superstitious rituals. It was fine for Sam though since he didn't have to participate, but he was always worried Glenn would end up puking as he rounded first or something like that.
       "You were almost late." Glenn said, sitting on the stone slab of the entrance as Sam exited his car.
       "Sorry, some of us do more important things than hit balls with sticks." He laughed helping Glenn up, feeling a twinge in his chest from the exertion. Sam choked down the cough and pain as they walked inside.
       "So, anything new with Remi? You guys kiss?" Glenn mused making kissing faces at Sam.
       "Yes, they actually have a new app where you can kiss through computers." They both laughed.
       "Seriously though man, like why? Couldn't find a girl a bit closer?"
       "I don't know, I guess not....She just...I don't know how to word it, but to put it in the stupidest words, 'she completes me'."
       Glenn looked a bit disbelieving, "If you say so. As long as you're happy or whatever I'm supposed to say to show support."
       "You're just jealous because I have a hot girlfriend and you, Glenn Horton, star shortstop for the New Haven Bluejays are single and alone." Sam put as much showmanship into the last half of that sentence as he could and they shared a laugh as their food came in.
       "But seriously..." Sam said after a bit, looking down at his food, "She might be the one, you know?"
       "I don't claim to be an expert in love, but I know these two facts. One is that you're only 17 I wouldn't commit to anything like that this early and two is that about things like this I'm usually wrong so if you feel it then commit to everything."
        It felt nice for Sam to have Glenn's approval. He always worried people would discredit their relationship because it was purely virtual, but the feelings weren't. Sure they hadn't physically touched each other, but they knew the others face and mannerisms. With sex or even the temptation of sex, they were allowed to grow together and for what little Sam knew about love it felt like true love. The truest he'd experienced up until this point at least.
        The conversation afterwards was mainly about the upcoming game and Glenn's plans for big league fame. He certainly had the skill and talent for it. They said their goodbyes as they walked outside, a teammate of Glenn's driving in to pick him up. Sam awkwardly gave a small wave having briefly known the guy from math class last year. After they'd left Sam got into his car heading off to the pharmacy, still no response from Remi. Once home, he'd decided he would text again. There was no mother present when he walked inside, she'd either left or was asleep upstairs or God forbid she actually went to work. Sam tossed his bag of pills onto his desk and then laid down in his bed flipping on the TV.
        He pulled out his phone, 3:04 PM, she'd have to be up by now, "Hey you awake or are you dead?"
        "....." There was no response for awhile. Sam sighed a bit checking his phone about every 15 seconds, hearing phantom vibrations. After 5 minutes of waiting, a direct call was decided to be the next course of action.
        A few rings went by before Sam was greeted by a male voice and quickly hung up. Maybe she was just sick and had a low voice? He wanted to give Remi the benefit of the doubt again, but now it was a bit harder. Avoiding him and a non-Remi voice answering Remi's phone was more than not normal. Was she cheating on him? She didn't have any siblings he was aware of, but then again he never investigated to deeply into her family.
        Sam's phone began ringing this time, a call from Remi. Reluctantly he answered, "Hello?"
        Surprisingly he was greeted by Remi's voice, albeit groggy and hungover, "Why are you calling so late?"
        "Do you even know who you're talking to right now?" He found himself angry again, it was one thing before when she didn't know but now it was unforgivable.
        "Sam, what do you want?" She sounded a bit annoyed.
        "Sorry to disturb you're partying. I just wanted to tell you we're fucking done." Sam didn't feel good for cursing, but his anger plowed right through it.
        "Huh? What are you even talking about Sam?"
        "We're done, over, broken up. That's what I'm talking about." He could hear her gasp a bit, the jolt of reality finally waking her up. Remi tried to interject but Sam couldn't stop his words from continuing, "No, I'm fucking done. I just can't do this. I can't support both you and myself. It was one thing before when I was fine, I could put up with your drinking but now I just can't. It's impossible for me to hold us both up like this so I'm done."
        "Sam, please. I'm sorry OK?"
        "No, I won't do this anymore Remi. Maybe if it were any other day I wouldn't be so upset, but you knew what today was. I told you multiple times and you just don't give a shit so I'm done."
        "I do care Sam, I was just scared for you.....for us." Unfortunately Sam didn't hear that part having already hung up. Clicking the end call button wasn't as satisfying as slamming down a telephone, but Sam gave it a hard enough click that he got some small joy out of it. That joy was quickly replaced by rage though, angry at Remi for abandoning him, but mostly angry at himself for relying so heavily on someone else. He hated himself for letting it get to this point, so far in his life he'd only ever needed himself, Glenn was a friend but he never needed this level of emotional support before and now he didn't have it. Sam lay in his bed fuming, letting the rage and hate wash over him. His phone buzzed and rang with texts and calls until Sam finally shut it off throwing it against the wall. He was officially done with Remi, he thought he'd at least be somewhat happy no longer having to worry about hurting someone or being hurt, but Sam's chest was on fire. The pain forcing itself to the forefront as Sam winced in pain. Either caused by a broken heart or cancer, Sam couldn't tell, the only thing he could do was bear with it until it passed.

     

Gas Station Breakfast: Chapter 7

     They pulled into another gas station for, hopefully, their last pit stop at least for awhile. Neither Glenn nor Sam said much as they went about their business at the pump. Having now arrived in the town of Remi, Sam felt unreasonably nervous and nauseous. He couldn't tell if it was the medications, the sub-par food, or the fact that he was about to meet the love of his life, or maybe a combination of all three. He stared out over the town as he filled the car up thinking maybe he might catch a glimpse of her, but Remi didn't show up before Glenn came back out with another bottle of Coke in hand. Sam unhitched the gas pump and returned it home before climbing back into the driver's seat. This was the moment of truth for him, his hands gripped the steering wheel as they pulled out.
      He had the address of her house memorized, he had used it to mail her a gift or two before. Sam didn't think he'd be using it in this capacity ever, but it was nice to have on record instead of referencing the map every 20 feet. As they crawled along trying to find the right street Sam's head was drowning in his own thoughts. Should he have told Glenn about the cancer or kept hiding it? Would Remi be excited to see him or would she want to at all? And most importantly, why was he doing this? He felt as if Glenn deserved an answer to this question and at the very least Sam should know why he was as well. Was it really all because of love? Was there something deeper behind it all? The thoughts piled up as Sam pulled into the parking lot of a closed down diner. He knew they were only a block or two away from Remi, but pulling into her driveway seemed a bit too forward and the walk would give him time to compose himself.
      "So why are we here?" Glenn said his first words in over an hour.
      "Well it's close to her house and I ca-"
      "You know what I mean." Glenn cut him off.
      "You want the truth?" He waited as Glenn gave a short nod, "I don't know. I just don't honestly know Glenn. It's hard to explain to you because I can't explain it to myself."
      "There's a start." He straightened up in the seat, "Take your time, but I'm not letting you out of this car until we both know. I let the cancer thing slide for too long apparently and I don't want you to regret this decision either. At this point in time we can still back out, return home, and act like nothing happened. But you owe it not to me, but to yourself, to sort out these feelings and explain clearly why we are chasing after a girl you dumped a few weeks ago."
      "It was only a week ago."
      "Whatever, I don't care about the when, where, how, or what. My only concern is the why."
      Sam let out a long exasperated sigh and stared at his steering wheel, hands still firmly attached to it. He searched around in his head for an answer, but couldn't find one. Glenn waited patiently beside him though and Sam knew he was serious about keeping him contained. Glenn locked the doors with a smirk, holding a finger down on the lock. Even if Sam managed to unlock it quick enough and escape, he would be hunted down. Glenn was naturally more athletic than Sam, being a big-time baseball star getting a scholarship to some D-2 school and Sam, even without cancer slowing him down, was only able to manage chess as a "sport". An escape on foot was then impossible and he certainly couldn't force Glenn out. So, all he could do for the time being was sit in silence and gather the answer they both needed.
     "Where to begin," He started after minutes of silence, "Cancer changes a man Glenn," he tried starting with humor, but Glenn was having none of it, "Look I really can't give you a good solid answer man. I guess at the very best I want answers. The past few weeks between me and her have been hell. I just got so selfish in the fact that I was dying and needed help that I couldn't see that she was hurting too......I....I put all the blame on her for why I felt so shitty. In short I was a complete dick. I need to apologize to her, but she hasn't responded to my texts for a few days....Whether or not I live through this cancer or whatever, I guess I wanted some answers, some validation that my life meant something to someone. And before you even start I know I mean something to you, but you know what I mean. I need to know what me and Remi had was real I guess.....I don't know man it's really hard to word it right. I have the thoughts in my head, but I lack to social skills to properly communicate."
     Glenn waited a moment, then took his hand off the lock, "All right then, let's go." He smiled a bit, he might not have fully understood Sam's reasoning and that's mainly because Sam didn't understand himself, but it was enough for him to free his captive.

1 month ago

     The strain of lying to everyone was becoming a hassle for Sam. He needed support from somewhere, but his mom was a wreck and he didn't want to tell Glenn yet. Even Remi seemed out of the question, how could he burden her with his dying self? It grew more and more frustrating as he found himself avoiding school, classes, and most people. It was emotionally exhausting which didn't help any when added to his physical exhaustion. Most nights Sam counted himself lucky to make it into his bed, he was particularly weighed down with labored breaths or chest pains, but the medicinal cocktail he was taking was certainly taking it's toll and no matter how much tinkering Dr. Sureesh did with the dosing it never helped. 

      "So you are still feeling tired?" He asked one day as Sam sat on the exam bench. "I see you drove yourself here today, that is good." He mused looking over some papers.

      "Hmf," Sam let out a puff of air, "I'm sure the janitor is getting sick of mopping up mom's tears." He had grown more sarcastic and dark as things progressed. Either a side effect of the cancer, drugs, or the whole bottling up his emotions thing.

      "Tsk, tsk Samuel, she cares about you, that is why she cries. The cancer is only in your lungs, don't let it spread to your heart." He tossed the clipboard onto the counter and motioned for Sam to lift up his shirt as he grabbed the stethoscope.

      Sam raised his shirt up to his shoulders, feeling guilty in the silence that followed for the remark he made about his mom. He knew she cared and losing her husband and now her son had to be rough. He breathed in and out at Dr. Sureesh's command going through the routine that he'd now been accustomed to since D-day.

     "It is good...not great, but not terrible." Dr. Sureesh said as he rounded the exam table to face Sam again, grabbing his clipboard on the way to make notes. "How has support group been going?"

     "Wouldn't know." Sam responded rolling his shirt down, "Haven't been in a week or so. Just felt too tired ya know?"

     "Mhmm," Dr. Sureesh wasn't buying it, "I know it is rough for you Samuel. I know. But you need more than just medical help. You may think you are a big, tough, young man, but no one has ever gotten through life on their own. No one wants to listen to an old stiff like me, but I am right, this I know for sure. Now then," He made an exaggerated move of his wrist to check the time, "If my schedule is correct you have Group in about 10 minutes. If we take my car you will get there in no time Samuel."

     "Wait, what? We? I have my own car Dr. Sureesh." Sam pleaded.

     "Yes and if you take that you will only go home. And please call me Raza." He was already grabbing his keys and heading for the door. Sam helplessly followed behind.

     They didn't speak for the duration of their short ride and Sam just stared out the window. When they finally arrived, Dr. Sureesh said he'd be back to escort Sam to his car and subsequently drove off. Sam stood there on the concrete sidewalk staring down the doors. The few times he went were awful and he hadn't bothered to learn any names so coming back in would be awkward as people remembered him and he blankly smiled in return. The worst of it all would be the re-introduction of Stacii, yes with two I's, there overly energetic leader. She herself was a mid-20's grad student with a Bachelor's Degree in Counseling with a minor in Psychology. Stacii was aptly qualified and always well put together, casual clothes and hair styles. She was great at her job, but Sam's disinterest severely skewed his view of her. To him she was just a bubbly idiot who had no idea what she was talking about and was only doing this for credits, so the nice act was just a front.

     Sam shuffled in trying to sneak into a chair towards a darker corner so he could at least hide until it came time for introductions. It was tolerable then because he was at least forced to talk and could be brief, small talk however would be long and drawn out. He also felt out of place because most everyone here was terminal and he had the joy of ambiguity on his side. It was a gift and a curse to be in the middle like Sam. On either extreme you at least knew the outcome, survivors knew they'd be sacrificing something like a limb but after that they'd be pretty clear and home free. If you were terminal well then at least you knew the end point and it was just a matter of getting there. In Sam's position, it's nice because everyone treats you like a survivor, it's all positive and roses and "you're gonna beat this kiddo!" The other side of it was the fear that you could pop off at any time and that'd be it. Terminals get an estimated end date, survivors get freedom, and the middle people get to wait and see.

     "Well hey there stranger!" A voice said sitting down.

     Sam turned his head, seeing that the worst has happened. He would be forced into small talk with Stacii, "Hey," he feigned a smile, "Sorry, I haven't been here in awhile."

     "No problem, so long as you're still here and kicking." She returned a genuine smile and Sam felt guilty for his false one. "You holding on all right then?"

     "Yeah, yeah. Some days better than others you know?"

     She nodded as the others started to shuffle into the circle and take their spots. Unlike he'd hoped, Stacii stayed in her spot next to him. Being that it was a circle and she insisted that she wasn't their leader, just another friend, it didn't matter where she sat and still Sam hoped she'd move so he could sulk in silence. He tried to take an apathetic stance, slumping in his chair, arms lazily hanging in his lap, hoping this would detract her from asking him any questions. God forbid you ignore Stacii's questions, "Talking through things is essential to dealing with problems" or so she said. Sam dealt with things just fine without talking, or so he said. 

     When it came his turn for introductions Sam stood up flatly announcing, "I'm Samuel Bennent and I have limited stage Small Cell lung cancer." then sat down without anything else. He remained quiet and tried to be as small as possible as the others talked. Occasionally he felt his chest rumble with an impending cough, but Sam usually managed to keep it down to a muffled noise. The burning sensation in his chest told him it wasn't a good idea, but the less noise he made the less questions he'd face afterwards. "How's it going buddy? Sounded kinda rough back there?" or "That sounds just awful, you poor thing." Halfway through the session, Stacii put her hand on Sam's knee giving it a good squeeze and holding onto it. It happened to be at the same time he was having a coughing fit and someone was extolling the latest tragedy in their tale. He couldn't tell if the hand was for him, for the other person, or for both. Sam caught himself staring at her hand examining it. Stacii had a fair complexion, arm dotted with small freckles, her hand was abnormally warm or at least he thought it was, but the strangest thing he noticed was on her hand itself. Normally he wasn't this observant, but focusing on something helped calm his coughing. Sam noticed a small, weathered, tan-line on her ring finger. And again Sam began feeling guilty finally recognizing something everyone else probably already knew, she lost a fiancee or husband to cancer and that's why she was here. 

     "Sam hang back a bit okay?" She said at the end of the session as everyone began walking out.

     Still stunned a bit, Sam politely nodded and stood up. He forced himself into short conversations with a few others to try and regain his composure before facing Stacii again. It was exactly how he imagined it and trying to squeeze out some sympathies made his chest hurt worse, but suffer through it he did until everyone else had shuffled out.
     "Thank you for staying a little longer Sam." She smiled politely as she walked up to him.
     Sam half smiled and glanced back out the glass door, "It's fine my ride isn't here anyways." They both smiled and laughed softly.
      "I know it must seem weird asking you to stay here and the whole leg thing. I'm sorry, it's just hard sometimes you know?" She let the last syllable hang in the air a bit, "But we all have each other to help out."
      "Yeah, but coming here to the touchy-feely sessions doesn't exactly cure cancer."
      "Sam, you know what I mean." She sighed a bit, breaking her cheery demeanor, "This isn't just about you. You probably haven't noticed, but your mother comes to the Parents of children with cancer sessions. Have you talked with her about your condition lately? What about Remi? How is she coping?"
      Sam blinked a bit stunned because he hadn't noticed and was confused for a moment as to how she knew Remi. He looked down in the silence, obviously looking guilty, "I....I haven't even told Remi. She doesn't need to know. The less she knows, the less damage I can do right? I don't want this to become a huge deal and have her worrying about a sick boyfriend."
      "Well I can't fault your intentions, but I can blame you for being stupid, Samuel. When you get home, I want you to call and tell her. She has every right to know, I'm going to assume you've dropped the L-word a few times?" She waited for Sam's nod of affirmation, "Then she cares about you and knowing women like I do, hint I am one, she'll be more hurt you didn't tell her than sad at the fact that you have cancer. Trust me it's what my husband did and if I learned one thing from it that's don't hide behind your cancer and use it as an excuse not to live. If you're dying isn't that all the more reason to live? I'm sorry Sam I don't mean to lecture you, but from the way your mother talks about you it's hard not to feel like you are just biding time till you keel over."
      Sam ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily, "No...it's...I mean.......You're right. I've been a sucky cancer kid lately. This has just been a kind of personal disease, so I thought I should deal with it myself. But you....Dr. Sureesh....Glenn you're all right. Thanks." Sam gave his first genuine smile since D-day and almost as if it were rehearsed and choreographed he heard the honk of Dr. Sureesh's car.
     Before he could say good-bye, Stacii had already embraced him in a unusually strong hug. She held onto it for a few moments as Sam gingerly wrapped his arms around her. Most of the time physical contact made Sam uncomfortable and that was only exacerbated by the cancer, but now in this moment he felt relaxed. It was the comfort his mother wasn't strong enough to provide and Remi wasn't near enough to. He heard Stacii whisper "Please come back." as she let go and Sam nodded before leaving. Sam and Dr. Sureesh didn't talk on the ride back, Dr. Sureesh only wore a smug smile of satisfaction on his face having both seen the hug and the blush on Sam's face from being so close to a woman.
     When he finally arrived home, Sam felt too tired to call Remi. He wanted to force himself to do it and finally tell her, but this required some finesse and for Sam that meant time to collect his words. It was time she knew, he owed her that much after investing so time into Sam. He decided a good night's rest and he'd call in the morning, it was Saturday tomorrow so they'd have plenty of time to talk and sort through everything. Even if it did end in break-up, it'd be a better end than the bitter end he had in mind.

Gas Station Breakfast: Chapter 6

     "Glenn, I'm sorry." Those were the only words Sam could force out while they ate. Even then, those words took Sam awhile to find. He felt guilty lying to Glenn for so long, but it's not often that the C-word (as Sam's mother took to calling it as if not giving it a real name somehow made it less real) gets talked about and even the thought of it made his chest feel tight again.
     "Just be honest with my dude, how bad can it be?" Glenn did his best to sound sincere and get rid of that pissed off tone that was edging his voice.
     Sam chuckled, it was that sarcastic "if only you knew how bad it was" chuckle, "Well, pretty bad actually. Look, first off the only reason I haven't told you before now is that it's kind of impossible to just come out and tell you..or anyone....Apparently, according to the latest advances of medical science, I have cancer." He half-smiled and shrugged, trying to play it off as if he didn't just tell his best friend he had cancer. Sam was usually terrible at bluffing or playing things off, this time was no exception. Glenn's blank expression either meant he was processing what he was just told or had no answer....or both. Sam continued, "As far as cancers go apparently it's not that bad, but also it is kind of that bad since it didn't respond too much to medications and such."
     "Just stop, hold on." Glenn waved his hands trying to put a pause on the conversation, "You hid cancer from me?......Dick. Dude, why? You know I have your back."
     "Well yeah, but I never had a good time to tell you. It's not like I can go 'Hey what's up Glenn? I have cancer!'" Sam tried his best to sound jokey, but he knew Glenn was hurt.
     "True...." They both sighed and looked down at their scraps of food, neither sure of what to say. Glenn finally spoke again, "So, is there like a timetable or whatever? Or is this a type of cancer that you live with for a long time?"
     "I don't know, they've kinda danced around the whole death thing and not given any specifics. I'm supposed to start chemo like the 23rd or something like that." Sam pushed around a chunk of waffle on his plate.
     "Wait," Glenn pulled out his phone checking the calendar, "That's in like 5 days. Why the hell did we make this trip?!"
     "Keep it down spaz. We are hours away from Remi. It'll probably only be a few hours spent there as well before we turn around and come back. It took us like 3 days to get here, we have plenty of time."
     "If you say so......but that doesn't fully answer the question of why we came here though."
     Sam was already shuffling out of the booth, leaving money on the table and another question unanswered. They both made their way outside and into the car, a mere 3 hours separating them from their destination. It was quiet and awkward again as Sam drove with only the radio and occasional coughs to fill the void. He still felt guilty for lying to Glenn and taking this road trip, but somehow explaining this journey to him seemed harder than telling him about the cancer. The fact that Glenn just decided he was coming with made it seem unnecessary too. He didn't need to know then, why does he need to know now? Maybe the hardest part of it all as the fact that Sam didn't fully know why himself.

1 and a half months ago

     A week after D-day (diagnosis day) Sam had been forced to go to a support group. Sitting in cheap plastic chairs in the Community Center did nothing but amplify his feelings of self-hate. Through that first week though talking to Remi was thing that kept him sane. It was harder to lie to her than it was to Glenn, they had grown so close as a couple that their few weeks of dating felt like an eternity. Sam just wished he could go back to when that eternity actually felt that way, but ever since D-day he felt that instead of an endless bliss they would continue towards there was now just a finish line he was rapidly approaching and everyone else was in the stands watching and waiting for him to finally cross it.

     Despite that, Sam and Remi continued their nightly Skype calls but it gradually got harder and harder for Sam to hit accept. He kept fearing that he'd look so disheveled and cancer-y that she'd know and start worrying and that was the last thing he wanted, Remi to be worried about him. Between a shitty home life and past boyfriends, he didn't want to become just another shitty ex-boyfriend. The way he rationalized it is if he beat it then it was a non-issue and he could go back to being the cheesy romantic he had become OR he dies without telling her and she doesn't have any bad memories of spending weeks worrying and fretting of a sick and dying kid she's never fully met.

     "Hey" Remi said with a smile as the video connection kicked in.

     "Hey yourself" Sam replied with a faint smile back.

     "So what's up? You've seemed off lately Sammy."

     "Off? How so?" Sam's inability to play things off really damaged his ability to lie and/or act normal.
     "I don't know, you just don't seem like...normal? I don't know how to put it."
     "Well are any of us really normal?" He managed a sincere chuckle and she responded in turn.
     "It's good to see not all of you is gone." She smiled, but it slowly faded as their talk was ebbed by the silence that followed. "Please don't change Sammy. I need you."
     Sam didn't know how to respond other than staring at her image, stunned. In that moment she looked so small and timid, not the fierce entity of sexuality he had been so enamored with, but instead vulnerable woman who had entrusted her heart to him. What Sam especially didn't understand was why she had done this.
     "I....I won't." He finally stammered out. Sam felt his throat close and eyes water up, he didn't have a real solid reason as to why but looking at her in this form felt...sad. She had invested so much time in a boy who was dying.

     Sam managed to force those feelings down for a moment and continued a civil conversation afterwards. But as the call ended with their tradition of kissing their fingertips then pressing it to the webcam, the closest they'd come to physical contact, he began to resent life and everything around him, a classic case of life being unfair. Despite the claims of curability and how he would be just fine, it was hard for Sam not to view himself as damaged. And it was a self-fulfilling prophecy: Sam thought he was broken and didn't deserve Remi or anyone, this caused him to hate himself and everyone else, and if you hate yourself that must mean your somehow broken, and if you're broken you don't deserve love. The cycle went on and on in Sam's head a no amount of consoling words or pats on the back can put you back together. She was beautiful, pure, and untainted but naive enough to give herself to Sam and he couldn't understand why. Remi felt safe with Sam and Sam felt like a bomb waiting to blow.
     He thought about just ending their relationship then, thinking maybe if he cut ties before he died then she'd be less hurt. Maybe there would be a tear or two shed in his honor, but it wouldn't be a tragic loss. He'd just be another name on the list of ex-boyfriends. It would be a fitting end, most everywhere he went and everyone he met just added him to the roster of "Yeah, I kinda knew/remember that guy". If life were a movie Sam would be cast as Generic Guy #3, but now at least in the movie of Remi's life he would be Samuel Bennent - Cyber lover at the most or as he feared Samuel Bennent - Destroyer of Hearts.

    

Gas Station Breakfast: Chapter 5

     It's hard to communicate effectively when there's food being eaten, but no words were needed to create the tension between Sam and Glenn. Glenn intensely stared Sam down, not looking away from him even when taking a bite, while Sam did the opposite and focused on his eggs and sausage. Sam choked down a bite beginning to cough hard, pounding on his chest a bit hoping that would force it out faster. It didn't, it just added to the pain. When it finally subsided, behind the tears Sam noticed Glenn's expression soften a bit. As pissed as Glenn was they were still best friends and it's hard to be mad at a man choking on food.
     "So," Glenn began after a long sigh, "If you won't really tell me why were are making this god forsaken trip, can you tell me why you've had that cough? It's gotten pretty bad."
      Sam ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his face, "I don't know. I haven't been to a doctor. It comes and goes anyways. No big deal."
      Bullshit was easily detectable, especially to Glenn, "Come ON, dude. What's with the secretiveness now?" Sam opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly cut off, "No, you shut up for a second because I know you're just gonna make up some excuse. We've been friends since age 5 right?" He set his elbows on the table leaning in, "In that time you and I have never held anything back. I told when you looked stupid with that bowl cut in 8th grade and you told me how I could do 'so much better' than Mandy Collson when she dumped me." We both laughed. "Sam, we've been practically blood brothers and in fact we would've been when we were 10 if you weren't afraid of blood and knives." Again we laughed. "I'm just trying to understand what's going on. This is so out of left field, don't get me wrong I love that, but it's so strange that I just don't get it. I know you loved Remi and all that, but it's over I thought. Why are we making this trip?"
      Sam didn't know where to start on the reasons why. Yes, it had a lot to do with love, but there was a lot more to it than that. And that's what Sam couldn't explain. The words wouldn't come to his mind and it was hard to put it delicately enough that Sam would avoid embarrassment or severe judgment. In all honesty, the reasons behind this adventure were probably pretty basic and didn't offer a good enough explanation.

2 months ago

    The morning after their fateful encounter, Sam woke up to a text that said "I luv u 2" from Remi and from there it was settled. In the next week both of their Facebook relationship statuses read "In a Relationship With - Name". It was weird being in relationship without the person physically there, but distance makes the heart grow stronger. At least that's what Sam told himself. Soon enough, his whole world was Remi, phone background, laptop background, background topic of conversation. He was, as Glenn called it, in stage 4 puppy love. Glenn tried his best not to be repulsed by it, but seeing Sam so happy at least made it bearable.

     "So Remidios Allondrez? Never took you to be one for Latino girls." Glenn grinned as they sat down for lunch.

     "Well half, sorta. I think it's on her mom's side." Sam looked down at his food bashfully.

     "All this time you spend talking about her and you don't know what side is Mexican?" Glenn placed the back of his hand on his forehand faking a posh Victorian accent, "Inconceivable!"

     Sam laughed, "First off I'm pretty sure she's half Spanish and secondly shut up Queen Elizabeth."

     They both shared a laugh settling in for lunch. High School lunch sucks no matter where you go, but 4 hours into a school day and food is food, you take what you can get. Sam and Glenn talked about how he and Remi met and how things had been going. Glenn took the news of an online relationship surprisingly well, not even making a side joke about it. The only unfortunate part was there wasn't much to talk about in their relationship. So far their only "dates" had been Skype dates and there isn't a lot to talk about there. They mostly shared details about each other, things you don't discuss with a friend not even a best friend.

    "I don't know how to explain it Glenn," Sam paused, "I just kinda....feel it you know?"

    "Yeah, don't worry. You are talking to the master of romance, of course I know." Glenn again made a point of adding some flourishing, posh accent to the "master of romance" bit and again they laughed as Sam's phone buzzed. "Oooh is it Remi?" Glenn tried to sneak a peek as Sam laughed and pushed him back off pulling his phone out.

    Sam scooted over to get some distance and finally answered, "Hello." He didn't check the ID assuming it was Remi as well.

    "Mr. Bennett? This is Dr. Torrence from Mercy Medical. Sorry it took so long to get back to you."

    "Oh," Sam's heart dropped as he felt his chest tighten. He'd forgotten all about the visit until this call and only now did he feel any problems, "That's uh, no, no problem." It was hard for Sam to focus on what was being said as he was taken aback by confusion. He heard snippets of words like tumors, metastasized, and cancer. None of which were good news, but actually concentrating on the news being dropped on him was impossible and it was obvious on his face too as Glenn looked up noting the concern.

    "Can you make it in later today? I'd like to discuss our options."

    Sam silently nodded, unaware for the moment that he was on a phone until she asked again and he snapped back, "Yeah, yeah that's fine." 

     He confirmed the time and slid his phone back into his pocket. He and Glenn didn't speak for the rest of lunch. Sam really didn't even notice Glenn was still there to be honest, he couldn't remember where he was the rest of that day, so intently focused on those three words he made out of the conversation.

     Sam's mother drove him to the appointment against his will, but from the fragmented explanation Sam gave her and the fact that her only son might be dying it made it hard to persuade her otherwise. She was fairly young looking for 40 years old, a thin woman with unassuming but young looking features much like Sam. Her usual soft eyes seemed hardened by fear though and her knuckles were white gripping the steering wheel as the pulled into the parking lot. She kept a hand on Sam's back as they walked in whispering "Everything's going to be OK" which seemed to be more for her than it was for Sam.

     After a brief stint in the waiting room, Sam climbed onto the paper-clothed exam table. A few minutes later Dr. Torrence entered the room followed by a smaller Indian man named Dr. Sureesh according to his name badge and would be taking over as Sam's oncologist. Dr. Torrence gave his mother the sympathetic, feel-good speech before turning to Sam to finally address the elephant in the room.

     "Well, we can all pretty much assume it's not the happiest of occasions." She forced a half-smile, trying to stay light despite telling a kid he's got cancer. "Let's be honest though it isn't all bad, OK?"

     At this point, Dr. Sureesh took a step forward putting his arms behind his back stretching out his round stomach. "No it isn't," He spoke with a fairly good English accent Sam noted as Dr. Torrence stepped back letting Dr. Sureesh take center stage, "But the C-word is never a good thing either. What's best is we caught it relatively early. I'm sure you don't care about the fancy fifteen syllable word for the type of cancer you have, but what you do care about is treatment right?" He waited and after a moment Sam realized he was meant to respond, so Sam nodded. "Good. To start I am going to put you on a few medications, to treat the cancer obviously and some other to counteract the symptoms. You've been having some coughing fits lately right?" He looked down at my chart flipping through the pages, Sam could hear Sam mother sniffling in the corner as he did.

     "Yeah, I guess. It's been OK lately though." Sam responded.

     "Well, in any case it's best to keep everything under control." He pulled out a black, translucent sheet which Sam assumed his my X-ray and he put it up to the light. Sam's mother turned her head not wanting to see just how big it was. He had no idea what he was looking at, but his knowledge of lungs was basic enough to notice out of place spots as Dr. Sureesh pointed them out.

     "Here." He said after a moment putting the papers and folder down. "These are the prescriptions you are going to need. Everything should be OK, OK? I'll see you back here in a couple of weeks and we'll see how things are going." He smiled and tried to reassuringly pat Sam on the back as he handed him another sheet of paper. "This is my number, if anything should pop up call me. We want to stay on top of this."

     After that Sam and his mother left to go pick up the prescriptions. He pulled out his phone, 5 missed texts from Remi and 2 from Glenn. Sam shut his phone off completely and put it back in his pocket, resting his head against the car window. He barely believed the diagnosis himself and he certainly wasn't ready to tell anybody about it. The fact that his mother forced her way into this and found out infuriated him for some reason. Now she'd be nothing but a mess and Sam would be left to deal with this alone, just like when his dad left. Sam closed his eyes hoping if he forced himself to fall asleep he'd wake up in a new reality, but riding in a car with a sobbing mother made that hard to do. The ride to the pharmacy then back home were a blur as Sam went to his room clutching onto a bag of what was now his life. He turned on his phone again, 8 missed texts from Remi, 3 from Glenn. Sam tossed the phone on his dresser, laying down in bed. He felt terrible for ignoring them, but he was exhausted either from the day or the short breaths and tonight was not a night to be talking to anyone. For once Sam wanted to be alone, floating in the black void of nothingness, and process what just happened.

Gas Station Breakfast: Chapter 4

     Almost there. Maybe another hour so of driving left, but Sam and Glenn where almost done with the most labor intensive part of the trip. However, hunger over took ambition and there has to be some old adage out there about working on an empty stomach but they were both far too hungry to think of it. Sam pulled into a Denny's, in the moment between shutting off the car and getting out he smiled slightly to himself and mouthed the words "almost there". In the bliss he seemed to forget the growing tension, but he quickly realized it was there and his smile faded as he walked towards the door and Glenn. There was a look in Glenn's eyes that was hate or contempt, but disappointment and that's what hurt Sam the most. Knowing he'd let someone down.
    Breakfast started out quietly, both ruminating over how to go about the truth. It had been hard enough for Sam to hold it in for this long and all the words he went over in his head seemed contrived and pointless. How do you explain this to someone? It requires a bit more subtlety and tact than just coming out and saying it, but subtlety and tact were two things Sam had very little of. Despite the quiet nature, a severe lack of social communication stunted Sam's knowledge of conversational navigation.
    For the time being, Sam was content to hid behind a menu and make off-handed remarks about what looked good. All Glenn ever responded with was a non-committal grunt. He was caught up in how to force the answer out of Sam. Glenn knew how much he struggled with big news, it took him a day and a half just to tell Glenn he was getting a dog. Sam took a certain amount of coaxing to reveal answers, but this was so far and beyond either of their normal behavior that Glenn was concerned. It's not often an 18-year-old boy takes all of his college money and wastes it on a cross country trip just to see a girl. Something was lurking beneath the surface and Glenn was determined to find out just what that was. He wanted desperately to just grab Sam by the shoulders and shake him until the answers fell out, but before he could reach across the table their food came.

2 and a half months ago

     Love was a strange concept for Sam to grasp, but it felt almost instinctual to him to know when you really are in love. This was bigger than the time he swore we was in love with Sandy Marsion, who kissed him in 5th grade. That was just two kids wrapped up in the emotion of a 5th grade dance and a bump from Glenn that forced Sam and Sandy to get much closer than they intended. He always felt a bit ashamed that his first kiss wasn't as romantic as he wanted, but Sam knew he wouldn't do most things for the first time unless Glenn gave him the proper encouragement.

     Sam always kind of hated Glenn's sometimes overly-aggressive behavior, but it was also nice to know someone was always in his corner. Sam's parents weren't too keen on computer engineering or any of the other majors he considered, but anytime he talked with Glenn there was nothing but support. It was kind of like walking a tight-rope, Sam was never quite sure if he was going in the right direction or in danger of falling, yet he wasn't afraid usually because he had Glenn as a safety net. However, this current romance with Remi didn't have a safety net and maybe that's why Sam was so terrified when he opened his phone.

     "Heyyy hun :)" Sam felt his heart stop and stomach twist as he read the greeting. Hun? He had grown somewhat accustomed to the nicknames, but for some reason this seemed to have more behind it. They had joked back and forth about dating or how nice it would be to have someone, but was she being serious now? Is this her subtle way of telling him it's official? It was impossible for Sam to decipher the subtlety of language when people were talking to him, so the fact that he only had a text to work off of made it exponentially harder.
     "Ur laptop has a cam right?" came the next text, not waiting for Sam's hesitant, over-thinking response.
     "Yeah, why?" No sense in thinking about this, might as well just get to the point.
     "Open skype ;) I wanna see your face" There came the flutters again. He said OK, albeit reluctantly, and opened his laptop up.
     In the first few moments of loading up and starting his heart started pounding. The static images on Facebook and his phone were always enough to keep him content, but apparently she felt differently. He had really wanted to ask her for a long time, but was scared that for her this was just a cute little game and he was her piece to play with. Now though, she was initiating contact and maybe that meant there was something real here. Sam was still terrified that the sheer force of her beauty and dynamism in comparison to his dullness would kill any spark there might be. Before he could back out, the call came in. It was too late now to just close the laptop and run like he'd always done, but with mouse in shaky hand he accepted the call and his ensuing fate.
     "Hey" He was floored, he was always scared of being "catfished" but seeing her face and confirming she was real didn't even matter because for the first time, despite knowing her for a few months, Sam heard her voice. He was already deeply in love with her and this was just the icing on the cake. It was the soft, reassuring voice that he'd been needing in his life. Sam could barely respond with anything more than a stupid smile and dry throat.
     The rest of the conversation is a blur to Sam, he was so intently focused on taking in every detail of how Remi moved and spoke, how her hair fell around her face when she looked down and laugh, the ever so small dimples she had when smiling, and most importantly the sincerity in her voice when they confessed their feelings.
     "I know this is gonna sound stupid Sammy, but I really do kinda maybe sorta like you." She smiled bashfully looking away from the screen again.
     Then came the flutters again, "I really like you too you know? I don't think I've really hidden that." Sam responded and they both laughed. He had imagined this really heartfelt speech, but words were not his strong point and that was the best he could come up with.
     The conversation then proceeded forward with compliments back and forth, lots of blushing, and Sam's desperate longing to be able to reach through the computer. He hadn't even noticed that an hour had passed by. The knock on his door and announcement of dinner unfortunately snapped him back to reality and the flutters died down.
     "I uh...I guess I gotta go." He sighed a bit as she said bye as well and they both lingered on the screen for a bit. ".....I love you Remi." Sam said before shutting the laptop down, unaware he had even said that out loud. His phone remained silent throughout dinner and the rest of the night. Normally, this would've bothered Sam but he was so caught up in remembering every detail of her that again time became irrelevant to him and the only thing that stopped him was finally drifting off to sleep. The only thing he heard was her voice in his sleep, no dreams or images, just a soft voice that told him everything was going to be OK and for the first time he actually believed it would be.

Faded

Sometimes I like to just look at photographs and tap in those ancient memories, still frames capturing a moment that used to be. My memory may fade, but these photos don't. A picture is worth a thousand words, saying all the things I won't. All the times I never said 'I love you' or 'please don't go' a caught in a frame with no one to hear it anymore. There's no sense dwelling in the past, but I can't help regretting all the things that passed. 

Gas Station Breakfast: Chapter 3

     Sam woke up stretching, muscles aching from sleeping in such god awful conditions. 9:30 AM....still somewhat on track as best as he could estimate. Cross country driving was becoming a bit exhausting and more than once he had thought about just turning around and ending this crusade. Sam unbuckled and stepped out of the car dusting off his acid wash jeans. He wasn't a big fan of them, the blotches all over them reminded him of a Rorschach test, but Remi was and that was more than enough for him to buy a pair or two. Sam sighed a bit arching his neck to the left and banged hard on the car's roof, waking up Glenn who was tanning outside.
     "What's the story morning glory?" Glenn blinked himself awake and sat up.
     "Come on," Sam motioned for him to come down, "let's get going. I don't want to be late."
     "You know Sam, I've been thinking." Glenn said as he jumped down off the car.
     Sam rolled his eyes and sighed, "Here we go."
     "Take it seriously this time and stop avoiding the question." Glenn looked dead into Sam's eyes, which froze Sam in place. "Why are we doing this? Why are you sacrificing your time and money to drive across the map for her?"
     "For love, I thought that was kind of obvious." Sam shrugged.
     "Bullshit."
     "I don't know what else to tell you man." Sam dropped his head and got into the car.
     Glenn followed in begrudgingly, "Dude, we've been friends since we were like 4. I know you're hiding something and God willing I'm going to find out what."
     "If you say so Glenn. Why would I even keep secrets? You literally know everything about me." Sam turned the key and started up the car, slowly pulling back out onto the highway.

3 Months Ago

      Sam inhaled sharply and began coughing hard into the sleeve of his shirt. The fit was violent enough to stop his walk to school and he took a moment to breathe as Glenn rolled up. Glenn gave him a few hard pats on the back to knock it out and Sam waved him off, straightening up. The coughing started about a week ago, but it was starting to get worse. This was the first time Sam had been caught though, but it was easily brushed off with an excuse of swallowing a bug.
      Glenn hopped off his bike and walked next to Sam as they continued onward. Sam managed to muffle the coughs enough that they were barely noticeable anymore and pulled out his phone, creasing a half smile.
      "So who's this girl you're texting?" Glenn looked over with a Cheshire Cat grin.
      "No one, and how do you even know if it's a girl?" Sam stuffed his phone back in his pocket without responding.
      "Dude you don't text like anyone...ever." Glenn laughed, "So the only reason you'd be smiling at your phone is if some cutie is texting you."
      "Shut up." He shoved Glenn jokingly as he sped up his walk, "Come on we're gonna be late."
      Ducking conversations wasn't Sam's forte, but he still wasn't sure how to tell anyone about Remi or if he even should. As in love with her as he was they weren't dating or even close to, they were simply friends. He had began texting her more frequently within the past week or so, but in the effort of not wanting to seem different Sam held off popping the question so to speak.
      The next week or so proceeded much in the same way. Wake up, coughing, get dressed, coughing, shower, violent coughing, school. Anytime something new entered Sam's life it just became integrated as a part of his routine. He didn't get sick often and when he did it was over in a couple days, this newest fit just seemed to be a bit more persistent. Or so he thought sitting in the doctor's office, whom his mother insisted they go see. Growing bored and restless for an actual doctor to show up, Sam pulled out his phone and lightly kicked the back of his heels against the uncomfortable bench/bed contraption in the room.
      "Hayyy" read the text from Remi.
      "Hey, what's up?"
      "NM. just sitting in class super bored."
      "Sucks to be you. :)"
      "Ya i no. Wbu?"
      "Doctor's appointment, so I get the day off."
      "Aww is my poor bby sick?"
      Sam blushed fairly noticeably, he wasn't sure if the fluttering in his chest was caused by her or his current issues. In any case he was now light-headed, staring down at his phone. He lay back on the exam table hoping that the reorientation would balance him out while he waited on the doctor still. It was impossible to tell if she was actually flirting with him or being sarcastic, texts are a hard thing to decipher and as far as they knew a sarcastic emoji hasn't been made yet. Sam sat back up, readjusting his clothes, as the doctor came in. She was another beautiful woman with dark red hair and just the right amount of freckles in her mid-30s.
     "Samuel Bennent?" She said, as she looked up hoping to get some visual cue from me that this was in fact the right room. I responded with a polite nod and "mhm".
     "All right," She half smiled, "Good and bad news for you kiddo," Sam didn't much appreciate the condescending tone, but took it anyways, "Bad news is we don't know exactly whats going on, but good news is I don't think it's anything too serious. Probably just some viral bronchitis."
     Sam didn't really appreciate the half-hearted diagnosis either, but she had a medical degree and he didn't so there wasn't much he could do in protest, "So.....what can I do?"
     "Currently? Not so much." She flipped through the papers on her clipboard, "The nurse will come back in get some blood and we'll run some tests. In the meantime here is a prescription for some medicine that should help with the cough. Anything else I should know about before hand though?" She said, handing me the prescription slip.
     Sam took a moment to decide whether or not the chest flutters and light-head were relevant, he quickly then shook his head. After another half an hour or so, the blood was drawn and bandages were applied, Sam was graciously set free after a whole day wasted. He walked back out to his car and sighed running a hand through his hair, Sam sat in the car for a minute to recollect himself. What do they mean they don't know? He fought over this idea for awhile, growing increasingly concerned with himself. Is there something seriously wrong with him?
     "Heyyy evrything OK? U didnt txt me bck" Sam read the text from Remi and tossed his phone into the passenger seat, starting the car. He pulled out and started the drive home deciding to text her back once he was in the comfort of his own bed. Plus with a pounding head and chest, texting and driving was only that much more dangerous. Walking through the door and quickly to his room, avoiding talking to anyone as he sped by, Sam flopped down face first into his bed sighing heavily.
     "Yeah, I'm fine." he finally responded.
     "Then wat took sooooo long to txt back? :P" As if to get him back her response also took a minute or two longer.
     "I was driving. Sorry, doctor says it's just a bad cough or something."
     "Good :) Cant have anything happen to my lil Sammy now can i?"
     The flutters returned, "Lil Sammy?"
     "lol yea dont u lik it? I only give cute boiis nicknames." Sam could almost hear her giggle, a soft and brief chuckle that hid sincerity with coyness.
     "And I qualify as cute?"
     "Cute enuff @ least lol" There was her giggle again and Sam could feel his head get lighter with the influx of emotions and change in bloodflow. "Wat about me Sammy?"
     "I wouldn't say cute, you're more hot." Before Sam could fully realize what he had sent or regain composure the text was gone and out there into the ether of wireless text messaging, data clouds.
     "O realy?" Sam didn't have a chance to fully read her text as short as it was before another message came up, this time a photo attachment from Remi. This was different from the one he found lurking before and the juxtaposition of the image he had in his head and the one she sent was a shock to the system. The first photo had all the airbrushed perfection of supermodels, the type of beauty that causes infatuation and fills the fantasy of pubescent boys and lonely adults. The second picture, the one Sam received now, was so different and stripped down that were it not for her unusually piercing eyes it'd be hard to tell they were the same person.
     This new photo was removed of all photoshop edits and Instagram filters, every blemish and flaw was right there for him to see. In the realness of it all, Sam realized her beauty was elevated to an even higher plane. It was a simple self-photograph of her in bed, but the way her hair fell over the middle of her face, how her lips curled into a manifestation of sexual tensions as she gently bit her index finger, the soft fluorescent lighting of the average American home, all of this crystallized the fact that Sam was so far deep in love with her.