Break Me

“I know what will make you happy,” I told her, going to get my acoustic guitar.
“Juice box hero?!” she exclaimed, looking happier immediately. She sat up.
“Yes.” I started playing, and seconds later, we were singing together.
“He’s got to keep on drinking. Keep on drinking! This boy has got to drink the best, to be a Juice Box Hero!”
“He’s got stars in his eyes!” Emily sang in her clear, high voice. By the end of the song, we were laughing together, beating almost forgotten.
It wasn’t the kind of thing you ever completely forget.
I glanced down at my bandages.
“Jaden, do you think....it’s ever going to stop?” she asked in a small voice.
“Baby, I don’t know,” I told her, putting aside the guitar and curling my body around hers in the bed.
“Do you think...I could escape?”
Was she thinking of running away?
“What do you mean?”
She looked pointedly at my bandages.
“Oh, Em! No! You can never leave me, and you mustn’t hurt yourself,” I told her, horror-struck. She didn’t say anything, but her expression was panicky. Was she sorry she told me?
No, never! Said the small voice in the back of my head, the part of me that always had my back.
I was hit with another idea, and I picked up my guitar again.
“I dedicate this to you,” I told her, and I began to play.
Stay close, don’t go, by Secondhand Serenade.

What I sang:
Staring at the glass in front of me
Is it half- empty
Or full with all you’ve given me
I know I’ve been selfish
I know I’ve been foolish
But look through that
And you will see
(first chorus)
I’ll do better
I know baby
I can do better!
(Second chorus)
If you leave me tonight
I’ll wake up alone
Don’t tell me I will make it on my own
Don’t leave me tonight
This heart of stone
Will sink until it dies
If you leave me tonight
Don’t leave me tonight
Sometimes I stare at you while you are sleeping
I listen to your breathing
Amazed that I somehow managed too
Keep you safe, girl
Keep you perfectly safe girl
I would have taken for granted
If we lived another life
Don’t leave me tonight.

“I won’t leave you,” Emily whispered, the most important words I had ever heard.
“Thank you,” I whispered back. I put away the guitar and got into bed with her, needing this close contact to remind me that she wasn’t going anywhere. She didn’t say anything, but this somehow reminded me of another time, another place.