"Till the next sunrise?"
"I promise."
It was the night of September, Macy and Tyler were still in the park, talking. No noise, no running around, no touching, no kissing, just pure mind intimacy. They were always like that. They would spend hours and hours, just talking about the random things in life. From the sounds of those dry brown leaves that has fallen from the tree across their house to the white dog playfully chasing its tail in the afternoon. Anything. Everything is a topic for discussion for them. No judgments, no assumptions, just pure opinions.
As Tyler was sitting on that old rusty swing and Macy on the other side, he began to notice Macy's vague expression through her eyes.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked Macy
"Nothing." she blankly responded
"No, really. What is it?" he asked her again
"Life." she answered in a firm tone
This caught him off guard. He was puzzled in why Macy suddenly thought of life. He playfully responded
"and what about it?"
"It's short." Macy answered. Tyler was surprised with the strength in her voice. He couldn't imagine himself saying these words. Having these words come out from his mouth.
The minute that these two words left Macy's mouth, a pinch of agony was reflected through Tyler's face. They both knew that life was indeed short. Uneasy, Complicated and Short. For them these were facts. Something that they both had to accept. Both fell silent. They could hear the drop of dew from the highest leaf on the Acacia tree down to the floor.
For a moment, these two didn't speak. They were staring blankly as the warmth of the night took it's course. In their own way, they both understood what each of them were feeling just by the release of air through their mouths. Tyler knew exactly what Macy was trying to say, he will miss her. Her silent arguments and random statements that he always considered as facts. He will miss the crinkle of her nose at each lame joke her gave out. He will miss the sound of her laugh. The sweetness of her voice. The depth in her light brown eyes. The dimple at the corner of her mouth that would only appear whenever she smiles. He will miss everything about her. Everything. He saw no reason why he would not savor the last few days he had with her. He doesn't know when it will happen, but he didn't care. Neither did Macy. She never wanted to know when or how it can happen. She didn't ask the doctor what could be done, what should be done, and neither did he. All they know is that, they have three months. Three months to make things right. Three months to be with each other. Three months to be together. They didn't care what other people thought when they see them together in the park. Talking. Chatting. Laughing. They wanted to spend as much time as they can with each other.
Not a day goes by with Tyler thinking what his day would be without Macy. How the park would feel like without her. How the park would look like without her. How the park would be without her. In their minds, the park, this park is and was theirs.
Macy would often think about the first time they met, in that red sand box by the tree and near the long red slide, they were both in third grade when Macy fell on her knees as she was trying to catch that purple butterfly.Tyler was the one who helped her up and caught the butterfly for her. He pulled her up, got the empty jar that we was holding, and caught the purple butterfly. Since then, the two were inseparable. They shared an understanding that only they understand. Their friends asks questions, and they'd always answer, they're destined friends. Two souls who happen to be at the same place, at the same time, who shared the same thoughts. Days would come when these two would have their heated discussions that would end up badly but they'd act as if nothing happened the next day--and one of them would always accept defeat.
The moment they found out that they only had three months, Tyler, for the first time, held Macy's hand and she responded with a smile. This was the most that these two got physically intimate. Nothing further.
They knew that their days in the park together will have to end. They knew that, they understood that, but surprisingly, they never talked about
that.
The cool breeze if dawn began blowing the crisps of the brown fallen leaves from the tree as the sun began to stop itself from hiding. It was again, another morning. They now sat on their mat to watch the magnificence of another sun rise.
"Life is short" Tyler firmly said. As if now, accepting defeat to Macy's statement the night before.
She didn't respond. She closed her eyes to feel that calmness of the morning breeze. She then felt Tyler's hand slowing intertwining to hers as he leaned his back on the big rock behind them. Macy felt a certain peace with her hand held in Tyler's palm, she then leaned on his chest to hear his heart beating. She felt it beating faster as she placed her head on his chest. Faster. Harder. She knew that this was it. Though she didn't want to admit it, but she knew that it was today. At each moment, she could feel the beating slowing down. beating slower. Descending. Fading. It was time. She looked at him, one last time, she could see it through his blue eyes. It was time. She nodded and smirked, assuring him that she'll be okay. He smiled in peace. He kept his promise and took his last breath.
In the morning of September 9, Tyler died from stage 4 Lung cancer. Peacefully and Happily and in the arms of the person he loved the most. In the arms of the one and only person who loves, understands and knows him. He died in the sight of Macy. His soul mate.
Macy felt the tears unwillingly flowing from her eyes and down to her cheeks. She felt like a part of her was ripped from her chest, there was a part of her that faded. A part of her was gone. Tyler was gone, but she was happy because he got what he wanted. She was happy because even in his last breath, he was happy. She was happy because He kept his promise.
A month after, she went back in the park, in their park. She sat in the same swing where Tyler last sat on. She wanted to feel him, one last time before she left for Chicago.
"Bye Tyler . . . " she whispered to herself and as she was sitting there, she felt a sudden comfort, the kind of comfort that she'd only felt whenever she was with Tyler. There was a blinding glow from the reflection of a piece of silver candy wrapper by the tree on her left. As she glanced towards the direction of the flashing light, tears started flowing down her cheek because right there, just by the tree where Tyler and Macy played, talked, fought, discussed and met; there it was, joyfully flying and peacefully floating was a vibrant and delicate . . . purple butterfly.
