My heart stops dead in my chest. The world slows. My head spins, making the world feel like it’s moving backward. Nothing feels right. His words ring over and over in my head.
I don’t want to fight it anymore.
Did I really hear him say that?
The same boy who was so kind to me years ago by giving me his goggles before my race was ready to throw in the towel. The same young man who I admired for years for his talent and his positive attitude was about to give it all away, bow out on the final curtain call.
I can see the defeat in his eyes. I see the pain and heartbreak.
There is also a part that rests deep in the pale blue of his eyes that is crying out for help. I see the part that wants to fight but doesn’t know how to begin or carry on.
I latch onto that part of him, refusing to break eye contact, while tears stream down either side of my face. As my throat constricts, I fight it with sheer willpower and continue to cling to the good in him.