Don't go

I want to spend every day for as long as I can lying next to you in your bed. Listening to you. Telling you things. I feel that there's just not enough time left for you to tell me everything that I still need to know. I want a complete, seamless, truthful account of your life. Everything you did, everything you went through, everything that happened to you, how it made you feel. All of your dreams, your secrets, everything you love, and everything you despise in this world.

I want to keep listening, want to hold on and pretend, that by not stopping to listen I can keep you from leaving. Keep you here forever. Not ever have to be without you. Because, I can't imagine how that would be like. I want to not to have to imagine, let alone experience how the world would be like without you. It can't just continue to be the same, can it? It will have to acknowledge that you're missing? How could it not? How could it not recognize that someone so important, so dear to so many, so beautiful and unbelievably strong, is about to leave its surface? How could it not feel that? How could it just keep going on as if everything was alright and nothing happened? It could not, could it?

Let me just stay here and hold your hand. Keep listening and hoping, you won't run out of words. And if you do, I will keep talking. Spend my words so that you won't have to leave. As long as there are still stories to tell, unsaid thoughts to say out loud, words and sentences to listen to, you can't go. Impossible. You have to hear them to the end. You can't just leave somewhere in the middle of the story. You have to stay until there's is nothing else to say. Until the last word has been spoken, until we run out of tales. Until there are no more anecdotes to tell, jokes to laugh about, fond memories to share, no more words. You cannot leave earlier than that. You'll have to promise! Promise me that.