Day 126

It was about 2am on a Tuesday and Marc had decided to spend the night with me. Unable to eat, sleep, or drink due to his nerves I figured there would be no harm in having him stay just for one night. I folded the comforters over our bare skin slowly feeling my body press against his own. Leaning up against his chest I stayed completely silent, listening to nothing but the sound of his breathing, my pale face burning against the heat of his chest. I took my fingers and danced them around the scars along his left arm, slowly tracing my way down to his watch and then back up again.

He wasn’t asleep, but he just didn’t want to speak. He never wanted to talk anymore, unless it was a necessity.

“Marc.” I said, my voice sounding unfamiliar to my own ears. He wasn’t going to say anything so I took it upon myself to speak. My throat burned as I tried to mouth the words I wanted to say, but what came out was what I needed to say. “Marc..  everything is going to be okay.” I whispered. It sounded like I was trying to convince myself more than anything. I didn’t fight the tears that rolled down my cheeks, past my freckles and onto his chest and stomach. He didn’t try to consolidate the situation. I was crying for both of us. Burying a hand into my face I tried to wipe away the snot and tears that had collected but there was no use trying to stop him. Everything was broken.

“Everything is going to be okay, I promise you.” I said a bit louder hoping maybe it would hang true with more emphasis.

What else was I supposed to say to a man with cancer?