Silence.

Here we stand, you and I. We both know what comes next and really, the reality and the calmness of this moment burns. I feel your hand in mine, clammy with the same fear and anxiety I feel.

I cast a sideways glace at you and at this moment you have never seemed so gorgeous to me. My over-sized hoodie resting over your petite frame, the frame I grew to know like the back of my hand; the one that I held close for so long, the one that will soon crumple to the ground.

Pressed up against my skull is the barrel of a gun, the gun that would end it all. You and I: our life-long friendship, the memories we shared, and the relationship that became everything to me.

You and I feel the same in this moment, and for some reason it doesn't make anything more comfortable, neither does your hand in mine. But you and I made a promise, and I, at least, am going to keep it.

You said you couldn't do it yourself, end your life. I couldn't either. You said we could do it together. You cried. You couldn't remember why you were living. I agreed.

"This is out of love," you said.

So here we stand and in this moment anything could happen, and a sudden wave of relief and comfort crashed upon the two of us. Safe from it all for the first time, safe from everything. Invincible, free. I feel as if you know that the world will continue to turn without us... Without you and I. I smile.

Even the cold metal of the barrel felt warmer then.

"I love you," I whispered and slowly pulled down the trigger of the gun in my own hand that suddenly felt warmer as well. You hit the ground, and a few seconds later, I did the same.

So this is love, and everything has gone silent.