Battling the Loss You Live For.

“Sazzy, I need you to start packing, love,” Mom said after breakfast, taking empty plates over to the sink. Sazzy seemed a little shocked.
“What… right away?” she looked… scared, almost.
“Well, not right away, but pretty soon. I say we have about… a month? Maybe a little longer,” Mom explained, putting away all the butter, jam, marmalade, sugar and stuff.
“Cheech, wipe the table down for me,” she mumbled, giving him a damp cloth.
“Sazzy…” I whispered into her ear, seeing her turn to me. She looked… hollow. “It’ll be alright.”
“I know, it’s just…” she muttered back, her face crumpled, hurt?
“I know. Leaving,” I said, stroking her hair, “I was like this when I left Jersey the first time.”
“Yeah… but this is different. I’ve always hated it here… in Brighton. But knowing I’m leaving England…” she started, her arms around my neck, my hands resting on her hips.
“Yeah… I see what you mean.”
“Mmm. I was born in London… I always saw myself living there, at this time of my life.”
“We… don’t have to go. I don’t want to snatch everything from you… We could have our own life here, babe. In London,” I said softly, stroking her cheek gently. I’d give everything I could for her.
“No. Don’t be silly. We’re going,” she said, her eyebrows creased in confusion, slightly stunned.
“You’d do that for me?” she asked in a whisper, her eyes now wide. “Drop everything? Rutgers?”
“…Yes. You mean more to me than stuff like that.”
“Frank…” when she utters my name, it’s like… music. Everything is complete, the world feels right… words can’t even describe. If I die, and the last thing I’d hear is her voice, I’d die happily. I love her, more than life itself, more than… living, more than anything I could ever love.
“I love you.”