Author's Notes:

I've been wanting to write something like this for a very long time - months, in fact - but I only started to put pen to paper tonight. I think it came out really well, and I'm happy with it. I hardly write in present tense and in second-person perspective, but it turned out good. Hope you all like it :)

The inspiration for this piece came from the song Demolition Lovers by My Chemical Romance. The title was derived from a lyric in the song as well.

I Mean This Forever

It is obligatory, for I cannot help but stare into your eyes and think you are the perfect person for me. Those beautiful eyes speak more words than your mouth ever could. You love me too, I know it. The magnificent blue of your eyes don’t lie. They’ve not lied to me before. I don’t know if you ever will. Would you?

You mean more to me than life itself. When you came into my life, I changed. My perspective changed, you’ve made me into a completely different person. Me, the person who once thought he’d never give a shit about what people thought about him. But I cared when it came to you. I bothered about what my hair looked like and I fussed about my grades and talents. All for you, my love; my life.

I drive us out on the open road. It’s late at night and the radio blasts our favourites; Frank Sinatra, Barry Manilow, The Beatles and Stevie Wonder. It is the disc that you burnt specially for us because it contained all our favourite songs. I croon to Manilow’s tunes as you laugh spiritedly at my antics. How sad; you don’t know what is to come. You don’t know what I have in mind for the both of us.

I’ve not spoken about it, because it never made sense to me to do so. Not when you’re around, you’re such a happy person. You wouldn’t have liked it at all if I talked about it too soon. You wouldn’t have approved of it. But you can’t see that this is it; this is the ultimate way for me to show how much I care about you. I don’t want you burning over the past, I don’t want you hurting over it anymore.

You let me into your head because you trusted me and I’m very grateful for it. It allowed me to understand what you were all about, what your aspirations were…and what your fears were. I know how much you dislike being alone at home. Your mother died when you were a little girl and you and your sisters suffered at the obscene hands of your father. The man’s a bastard. He did all that to you and to Elle and McKenzie too. Pity they can’t come with us. I’m sure they would’ve liked it very much. It helps them escape hell.

You playfully put your leg on the wheel, trying to steer us off the main road; and we cackle uncontrollably over the sheer delight of each other’s company. I look at you and it seems like I’m being torn apart. You embody so many things – things I’ve wanted to be, things I’d never have touched, things I’m afraid of and things I love – and you are so complex. You’re far more complex than the average human being. They wouldn’t understand you, not this way. I try to and even then, I’m confused.

But I still trust you. I still love you.

I turn to look at you and I see you’re staring at the sky. “Look!” you exclaim in the likeness of a child. “A shooting star!”

I shift my gaze skywards and sure enough, a silvery line creases the black night. “Make a wish, then,” I tell you, grinning when you excitedly close your eyes and I picture you somewhere far away from here – up in heaven, maybe – telling the angels your deepest secrets and your wishes for the world.

“What was your wish?”

“I can’t tell you that, Don. If I do, it won’t come true.”

You say it like an eight-year-old girl and it makes me burst out laughing. You teasingly hit me on my arm and I feign injury; and we chortle again. I always find I’m much happier around you. You lift my spirits and truly, make me feel like I’m on cloud nine every single moment I spend with you.

We top up petrol at a nearby gas station, picking up snacks and fooling around along the way. I don’t know why we bother buying food, but I suppose it is good that I play along for now. You’re hungry, you complain, and want some chocolate chip cookies. We leave the shop with the said food product and I can tell you’re extremely pleased. Food has always been your greatest weakness, my darling.

“Don, what are you thinking about?” You wish to know. I can feel those icy cerulean eyes dig into the side of my head where you stare. I am not sure how to reply to your question and therefore keep quiet. You’re not satisfied.

“What’s going on? Can’t you talk to me about it?”

Of course I can. I know I always can. I can tell you all my secrets and it wouldn’t matter. And I know I should tell you this very one, for it concerns you. You, my sweetheart, are my jewel. I can’t lose you anymore, not after what happened just two nights ago.

You were driving with your drunk friends down Hoover Dam and almost slid off the road, down the canyon and to your death. I told you not to go and you still had to. You insisted things would be alright. Who knew that meant you in a hospital bed, crying into my chest, telling me you were sorry for being stupid?

It was not your fault. Your friends made you go, you told me that night in the hospital. I don’t hold you liable. But I just cannot risk having to come to a similar situation when I could almost lose you forever. That would just kill me.

I tell you all that. You seem perplexed and I know I have to continue.

“I’d die for you. You know that, don’t you, Jean?”

“Yeah…”

“Would you do the same for me?”

“Don, don’t say stuff like that,” you try to tell me. I can see fear in your eyes as you anticipate my move. I stop the car and get out, and you follow close behind. We walk to the edge of the canyon, overlooking vast plains and dry forest. It is beautiful this time of night; the stars shine brighter than ever and the wind seems to sing us a tune from nature.

“Don, talk to me about it. What are you planning to do?” Your voice is urgent and it rips me up inside that I’m hurting you this way. But I promise you; it will be worth it. You are worth it.

“It’ll all go away soon, Jean, but you have to trust me,” I say. “Do you trust me?”

You still seem confounded and it leaves me with no choice. I stroll back towards the car and I can hear your footsteps on the gravel, right behind me. I heave huge sigh as I open the car trunk.

Ammunition is all that is in it. Twin guns sit neatly in a transparent casing on the top of everything and I can hear you gasp. I do not need to turn around to know your expression is that of utter shock and trepidation. I can feel the air intensify as you grab my hand and squeeze it tight.

“Don, w-what are you g-g-going to do?” You stutter to me, hiccoughing and sobbing. My eyes immediately fill with tears as I hear the exigency and pain in your voice. I turn to face you and gather you in my arms, into an embrace that is personal and loving. At least, I hope it is. I try to give you as much warmth as possible as you cry into my shoulder. You shake with apprehension of what is to come.

When you regain your composure, you look up at me and ask, “Are you sure?”

I need not rethink my decision. “Yes, I am, Jean. You know this is the only way.”

“But everybody else…”

“Everybody else doesn’t matter to me anymore. Only you do. I mean this, Jean. You should know by now. I don’t do things unless I mean it. I love you and I want to die for you.”

“Don, can’t you hear what you’re saying…?” Your voice trails off as you shake your head at me.

“I know what you’re thinking, Jean. That it wouldn’t be worth it? It will be, I promise,” I whisper, cupping your face in my hands and kissing you slightly on the forehead.

You chuckle, much to my surprise. I give you a questioning look and it only makes you laugh more. You smile up at me, leaving me bewildered, as you say, “My wish comes true tonight then.

“I’ve always thought about this,” You gesture to the trunk full of lead. “How it would’ve worked. I’m tired of living. I've been for a long time. But I held on for you. You’re the only thing that makes me happy now. And now..." you trail off. "Let’s do this. Now. You and me.”

It is my turn to ask, “Are you sure about this?”

You nod your head as you reach up and wipe away my tears with the flats of your thumbs. I hand you a gun, fully loaded with bullets, and pick my own up. We hold them up to our hearts, staring at each other in that moment in time. Everything seems to stop as we gaze at each other – loving, caring, sacrificing.

“I love you, Don,” I hear your soft words float through the dense air and I choke back the urge to throw the gun down and sob my heart out. This is for the best.

“I love you too, Jean.”

We’re holding hands, floating away from our bodies. I look down at the two of us, lying in each others arms, in a pool of blood. It is perfect. Everything is okay now; we have each other forever.