Make Amends

Logan Henderson △ | Kennedy Brock △ | John O'Callaghan △

Sequel to Walking On A Wire

"Rursus cura docendi."

I told her these words delicately as I held her hand. She looked at me strangely as her brain scrambled for what language I was even possibly speaking. I kissed the top of her hand sweetly, but she didn’t accept my distraction.

I smiled at her, longing that thick, beautiful hair I could hold in my hand. I missed kissing her, I missed holding her.

Her eyelids began to droop and soon I knew she would dismiss my ambiguous ideas. Her breathing became timed and measured, and I matched mine to hers as I did too often in this dull room.

She would never understand. Not only literally, because she would never be able to truly capture what I meant. And even if she did understand the translation, she would disagree, emphatically. She would roll her eyes and tell me that I was ridiculous.

This girl never agreed that one single person could teach another human being how to love, how to live. She had touched so many lives, and even though others would disagree, I had no doubt she had affected me most.

If she did decide to leave me, when she did, I would be left with the absence of her everywhere except my heart. She would eventually exist in memories, but mostly in the life I would lead in honor of her, should God grant me more days than she.

She made me better; she forced me to be better.

I whispered to her again, “The sick teach the cure.”