The Time We Spent Together

Let me tell you about all the things Amy and I have done.


Every day with Amy is an adventure – she just finds a way to make everything more exciting. She always said, “We don’t know how much time we have here, so let’s do the best with it what we can!”


Everyone always says that – On Facebook, Instagram, everything else. Everyone always says they want to live life to the fullest but no one actually does it. No one but Amy.


Amy never posted that kind of shit on Facebook either, which was even better. She just did what she wanted to do and never preached about it. Never told anyone they ought to be doing what she’s doing, never told anyone that they’re wasting their time. She treated everyone with respect, equally.


I met Amy in a bar about three years ago. She was celebrating with her family, and her hair was all short and she had this beautiful smile on the whole night – she just looked like she was full of a new sense of life, you know? I’m not sure if it makes sense, but yeah, she just looked full of life. She was glowing, in fact. I actually just gravitated towards her. I’m normally a shy kind of guy but I really couldn’t help but make an introduction.


She was nice to me, even though the mixture of tipsiness and shyness were causing me to stutter and slur my words together. She just giggled and kept smiling. She was so happy. Everyone around her was so happy. Amy always had that effect on people.


You know, I actually only found out recently what she was celebrating that night. It sounds horrible because I’ve been in love with her for so long, and I only just discovered what she was doing the night we met. But I just remember, everyone was congratulating and hugging her, saying “We’re so happy for you, Amy.”


But yeah, let’s get back to what Amy and I did together. She picked where we went on our first date. She wanted to try this obscure restaurant that she said she had always wanted to go to, so we went there and the food wasn’t so great but we laughed the whole night. We walked through a nearby park as the sunset afterwards, and I swear, I’ve never formed such a stronger connection with anyone in my whole life than the one I had made with Amy within about a week of texting and one date.


On our next date, she told me about all the things she wanted to do. Sky diving, free climbing, diving with sharks, even climbing Mount Everest or swimming the English channel, if she could. Of course there were all these other things too; some things we did, some things we didn’t. I told her on our date, “Amy, it would be a great pleasure to fall out of an airplane with you.”


What would you know; we actually did go sky diving together once. I think it was about ten months into our relationship. She jumped before me, and kissed me before she did. Amy was just as thrilling, if not more so, than actually jumping out of the plane.


Amy and I did all sorts of stuff like that, but I drew the line at swimming with any and all sharks. She went and did that with her cousins instead. Apparently it was great fun but Amy knows me; she said I wouldn’t have enjoyed it. Fair enough.


Although she still had big plans, Amy started to tone down her adventures. It turned into trying a crazy new restaurant every month, wearing clothes she always wanted to but thought she never could in public, speaking her mind and she took up painting. Not so daring but a lifelong dream of hers. We bought her an easel, good brushes and some lessons.


I had to ask Amy eventually about her toning all of her goals down. There was still so much she wanted to do, why wasn’t she? She said she was getting headaches and felt so tired, all of the time.


We were set to move in together but when the pains and aches got worse, Amy decided that it might be best to stay home with her family. Luckily, I got along with her family so they welcomed me and I spent as much time with them all as possible.


She didn’t talk much about her pains, but she spent more and more time in the hospital, and eventually I went to see her. Amy was bedridden, looked pale and far too thin. She finally told me that on the night of our meeting, she and her family and her friends were celebrating her getting better. This illness wasn’t new to her. She was meant to be better, but now she was ill again.


Amy said to me, “it doesn’t look good this time.”


So I spent everyday by her side. I had to leave every other night to wash and get proper food and rest, and change clothes. I’d always leave after Amy had fallen asleep, just so I could watch her at peace for a while.


Then came the night that Amy took a turn for the worse. I had fallen asleep on the chair next to her bed, with my head on her lap. I was stroking her hand when I felt her body start to convulse. It woke me immediately. I called for doctors, nurses. Was shooed out the room. I could only watch the crack in the door from my seat, down the hall, out of the way. I wanted to shut my eyes but they were burned open.


For hours I wanted to call her family, tell them that Amy’s condition had taken a turn for the weird. I couldn’t move. I felt the weight of my phone in my pocket but I couldn’t move – couldn’t bring myself to move. I was a statue that night until morning.


I think I phoned Amy’s mum at around 5am. I woke her, wanted to apologise but she knew immediately what was going on. She said, “Is it Amy?”


“It is,” I nearly sobbed. “It is Amy.”


She hung up on me then and was there within 30 minutes. In that time, I was told I could go in and see Amy again. The doctors spoke at me but I just charged in. Her eyes were closed – she was fast asleep. She looked much more peaceful. I think the doctors fixed her. She was beautiful there, on the bed, with the morning light shining on her face. I held her hand and wept until her parents came.


We had a party a week later, when Amy was looking a bit better. She was the centre of attention, and I actually only saw her for a few minutes. Everyone took their turn to go and see her, kiss her, hug her. She wore this little white number with my favourite shade of pink on her lips. She was still pale and skinny, but just that day, she looked glowing.


It pained me to leave her, but some of the lads and I – her brothers, cousins, you know, went to a pub after for a few rounds. Amy probably didn’t even see me leave with all the attention she was getting that day. My girl.


Drink were good, and we all said our goodbyes around midnight. I knew Amy would still be at the party venue so I went back to take her home. Her mum and aunties were just leaving when I got there, I told them I just wanted to nip in and see her again. Her mum hugged me and went home. Lovely woman.


I found her at the front of the room and kissed her. Maybe she had a bit to drink! I had to carry her all the way home. I didn’t mind – anything for my Amy.


After the party, though, Amy was weird. She wasn’t taking proper care of herself anymore and spent most of her time in bed. She was only eating what I basically forced her to eat. She was being so different – nothing like the girl I initially fell in love with.


I thought I had everything I wanted. Amy was living with me and I had her all to myself. We weren’t going out, doing crazy shit anymore. Instead we were just being cozy on my couch, watching her favourite films.  She was quiet. She was so different – changed completely. I barely knew who she was anymore.


I loved Amy – I still do. Maybe we’ll get back together when she sorts herself out. But one night I decided – I can’t take this. I’m not happy anymore. Amy had become lazy and boring. I wanted my old Amy back.


So the night of my decision, I picked up Amy’s body and dropped it off outside her parents house. In the harsh light of the streetlamps, I really saw for the first time how rotted her skin had become. I was disgusted.


Leave a Reply