I Fell in Love with Hope - Lancali

I choke on a cry wishing Hikari were here.
I hold his hands, the cold, thin, artful instruments that learned to be
held rather grasped. I bring them my face, memorizing all the times
they handed me books and held me close in fits of laughter, tears,
and anything in between.
“Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?” I ask.
He leans in, twiddling his fingers like loose screws. They travel down
my arms, holding them as they did on the days I helped him learn to
stand again.
“You know you never wanted us to be happy, Sam. Happiness is a
brittle, fleeting thing,” he says, looking into my eyes, I think, so that I
can see he is not sad. He is not in pain, nor is he regretful, resentful,
or anything other than at peace. “You wanted us to feel loved, and
we did.”
Looking out at the sea, his gaze reaches across its endlessness. He
picks up his book, fidgeting with the strings of his stolen sweatshirt.
Then, he stands up on his own. He walks across the tether of our
dreams and roams into the ocean. Great Expectations soaks up the
sea and sinks to the floor, its ink dissolving into nothing.
He climbs into the rowboat, pushing it from the muck with one foot
below settling in its center. As he begins his journey, I stand and
though I cannot follow him into the dark, I cry and realize he was
never in love with being sick.
He was in love with the home we gave him. He sails to the heart of
that home through waves and storms and a layer of darkness so
thick it can be breathed.
On the other side, I like to imagine that he finds a shore. There, the
shape of a boy and a girl draw in the sand with sticks and seashells.