I’ve known George since I was seven. We grew up together. Later, I fell for him. But for him, I was nothing apart from a neighbour and someone who he ran to when his assignments needed completion. He was rich, spoilt. He had girls all around him. We lead different lives. And then, one fine day, he left for his training. We hardly saw each other after that. I tried to forget about him. I went out with different men, but no, none could get George out of my mind. And so, I am twenty-one and have liked just one boy.
“Aren’t you scared of dying?” I ask.
“I’ve learnt to let go of my fears. With time, everything heals.” He holds my hands as we walk.
“When are you leaving?” I ask him.
“In two days.”
We walk in silence after that. I want to remain that way with him, besides me. I don’t want him to leave.
The next two days pass by very quickly. I spend every second I could with George. We spent the days roaming around, swimming in the waterfall, going for long drives and making love. By the end of the two days, I knew every scare of his body, and he knew every curve of mine. I hadn’t given myself to any other guy the way I gave in to him.
My heart skips a beat when you come close to me, and when you put your arms around me, I can’t breathe. I just want to stay that way, not wanting to let go off you.
But you leave… You let go off my hands, and turn away from me. You leave me scared. My mind goes blank. My heart-empty
I watch George fade away. He turns back to look at me, but I can’t see him. My gaze becomes hazy. I run into the washroom and stay there for hours.
Months passed and there was no sign of George. We were all worried. The radio was on all the time. News kept coming about all those who died. I kept my fingers crossed and hoped with all my heart that he wasn’t next. I had to see him. He had to come back to me.
He wasn’t scared. But I was. I didn’t want to lose him.
Coming next: Final part