As The World Falls Down

Prologue

I always hated it when he smoked. The smell of them on his clothes, the taste of them on his lips. It seemed like their stale scent lingered on everything and stayed around forever... I hated it. I never in my life thought there’d be a day when I’d crave the smell of those cigarettes—when I’d long to see the smoke from them curl around his long, slender fingers… No, I hated those damn things until the day he died. Now… now I think I would kill just to see that little half smile of his, the one he reserved only for me, and watch him take a good, long drag. At least then he’d be breathing…

Is that strange, do you think?

Probably, but then… I don’t suppose I really make much sense these days anyway.

I remember the last few days of his life with excruciating clarity. Gabriel's face, thin and gaunt with the weight of his sickness, has burnt itself into my retinas and is now the only thing I see when I close my eyes. His voice whispers to me in my sleep--reminding me of some of our last conversations…

"I don't want you to fall in love with anyone else after I go, Sophie. Actually, I forbid it." He murmured hoarsely, his chapped lips twisting into a shadow of the crooked smile I knew and loved. "I want you to grow old and pine for me with only the company of dozens of cats and useless knick-knacks. Promise you'll pine for me, Soph."

"I promise, Gabe. It's cats and knick-knacks for me from here on out."

That was Gabriel for you. Always thinking of other people rather than himself. There he was, lying in a hospital bed dying, worrying about how I was coping. Trying to make me smile. Maybe if he had been more selfish, he would've paid more attention to the warning signs his body was sending him and gotten treated sooner. Maybe then he would still be here. Woulda', coulda', shoulda'… None of that means anything now.

I know I’m eventually going to have to leave this apartment--the one he and I shared together. There’s no way I can afford the rent by myself, and I can’t bear the silence he’s left in the wake of his absence. Not when I’ve grown so accustomed to the stupid, simple sounds of him doing every day, ordinary things. You never think you'll miss the sound of someone brushing their teeth or making breakfast or snoring like a freight train beside you until the day all those sounds abruptly and painfully stop. I just keep thinking that if I lay here long enough, in our bed, surrounded by our things… he won’t be gone. I just can’t bear the thought of his smell eventually fading from these sheets. Because I know that’s when he truly will be gone.

How do I keep it with me?

How do I keep him with me now that all I have left are pictures and memories?

Tell me, please, because I don’t think I can handle the finality of all this. I’m so close to losing the little bit of sanity I have left… I need someone to catch me as my world falls down around me, but there's no one. I have nobody.

I want to tell you his story… our story. I want people to know how amazing he was and how he changed my life. I know words won’t be adequate enough to describe who he was and what he did, but, God… they’re all I have now. They’re all I have left now to remember him by.

Will you listen?

Will you listen to our story?