99. No Light, No Light

I hear gunshots going off in my gut, round after round ripping through me.

I see my stomach bleeding and my soul leaking out, and I realize this is all something I did myself.

I’m not sure I can do this without you, Kelsey.

It seems you’ve been here from the beginning.

In the darkest hour you were there, painting away the light. The grays I smeared on the screen were eclipsed by the blues in your eyes.

You made me feel again.

You chased after me.

You kept coming time after time. You never gave up even when you didn’t know if I had any hope.

And now with the night coming to an end and the dark, deep jaws of the wolf starting to close around my throat I know this one thing.

I’ll do anything to make you stay in my life.

I’ll do anything to make you continue to love me.

I want to see the twentysomething version of you turn into the thirty and forty and fifty version.

I can’t do this thing without you.

I don’t want the grays to come back.

I don’t want that dreary field. I want your light wheat swaying back and forth under a clear and steady sky.

I’m afraid the lights are going to go out.

I need a revelation to show me now tonight what to do and where to go and how to do it.

Don’t give up on me.

Don’t leave me.

Don’t take your light and go somewhere else.

Not now and not tonight.