I sent it before I could change my mind. I’d cancelled far too many times, and honestly, I’m surprised they still included me. I could be fucking normal for one night.
Alex:Fuck yeah, man. The boys are back! See you tonight!
And that was that. I was locked in for a night out, telling myself I’d watch the game and then say I had early morning commitments and couldn’t go out afterward.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket and set a timer, scanning my surroundings. The sun was shining. The weather was warm. I decided there was no better time than now to pick up my pace. I began jogging lightly, my arms moving in stride.
It felt…okay. Nothing notable. I kept a decent pace and stopped when my phone buzzed, switching back to a walk. My heart rate was elevated, but nothing unmanageable.Okay, I can do this.
Going back and forth—setting timers on my phone, walking anywhere between five and eight minutes in between made me feel strong. There was hope in my soul that I could strengthen myself. That I could be a better version of me. Not the version I was before, but this one here, in this moment, with the challenges I’d faced. I could be a better version physically.
Setting my timer again, I ran for thirty seconds. I felt good. I felt so at ease jogging lightly. My mind wandered, wondering why I hadn’t continued maintaining this years ago.
With each stride, I felt myself increasing the speed, my heart rate climbing with it. I felt good. I felt powerful. I also felt present in this moment, something I had lacked over the years after the diagnosis. It felt like I was taking a piece of myself back, and it was empowering.
As one leg extended in front of the other, a jolt of pain surged through my chest.
Fuck.
That hurt.
I immediately stopped, standing still, trying to lower my heart rate. I rubbed my chest, hoping the pain would subside, but it just wouldn’t. The pain was sharp, jagged edges tearing through my veins and arteries.
I stumbled off the side of the path and collapsed onto the ground. Closing my eyes, I attempted to steady my breath—breathing in through my nostrils, out through my mouth. Theagony surging throughout my body was unbearable. A tear streamed down my face.
I can’t die like this.
I can’t fucking die.
I’m too young. I have too many things to do.
I need to fucking live.
I need her to know life is worth fucking living.
My sobbing began to subside as the dimness of the outside world circled in on me. Like an arrow approaching its target, I was going down. My world was closing in around me. The pain still ebbing.
I inhaled one more breath.
Everything went dark.
The last image that I saw was her.
I saw Lennon.
* * *
Opening my eyes, I immediately felt like I had been hit by a bus. Although my vision was blurry, it was quick to clear and see that my mother was sitting next to my bed, visibly shaken. I reached my hand out to hers and watched as her head snapped up, suddenly alert.
“Oh my God, Asher. I have been sitting here bargaining with a God I don’t even believe in that you’ll be okay,” she gasped, the desperation dripping through her voice.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry,” I said. And I was. I couldn’t believe I’d put her through yet another stint here at the hospital. The amount of times we’ve sat in rooms like this, I might as well take up permanent residency. But all those other times hadn’t been from my carelessness. This one was.
“Why were you out for a run?” she asked. “Specifically, on a path that doesn’t have a lot of traffic because it’s hidden from street view? You’re lucky someone came across you.” Her head fell into her hands, her shoulders shaking from the pressure she was under.
Shaking my head at my behaviour, I said, “Mom, I’m so sorry. It’s never going to happen again. I had a burst of energy or something, and it made me feel like I could be normal again, you know?” She peered up at me, and I rushed to add, “I know it doesn’t make it okay, but just know I won’t ever do that again.”
Confusion made its presence known across her face as she took my hand. “Asher, youarenormal. What is normal, anyway?”
