When There Is Nothing Left But Love

There were too many things that I had not yet achieved. I did not want to die or to freeze to death.

Under the deep biting cold, I became aware of my own labored breathing and the low electrical hum of the freezer.

I tried once more to call for help, but I was not able to utter a sound. The cold near the top of my head started to seep in slowly but surely. First, it penetrated my scalp, then through my skull, then it started to affect my nerves. They seared with pain and went numb.

It felt like an eternity, or maybe it was only a few minutes, but the act of waiting for death to claim me in the suffocating silence was awful.

I became aware of feeling sleepy and groggy. I suddenly recalled something being said a long time ago by someone. They said that true death came in three forms.

The first was the cessation of breathing. Your soul and body would separate and somehow feel your limbs stiffen up. This was the death of the body.

The second type was being declared dead. When you stopped breathing and lay in bed, someone would be there to declare you dead and state your time of death.

The last type was death in the memories of your loved ones. When your body and mind disintegrate, along with your existence in the world, and all the traces of you being on earth would go with it. Slowly, you would even fade away from the memories of your loved ones, until one day, you cease to even exist in the first place.

At the moment, I felt like I was experiencing the first type of death. The sound of my breath, no, the sound of my heartbeat was steadily weakening. It grew so faint that I could not feel my breath anymore.

Perhaps my time really had come. It was destined to be this very moment.

heard and felt

eyes, I saw what seemed to be the shape of a tall and slim figure drawing me out of the icy

to describe; everything flooded my senses and

was still sub-zero out there, it felt warm to

body, close to the point of being frozen solid, being lifted up in a pair of strong arms. The figure

never felt more welcome in my entire life. I huddled closer. A familiar scent flooded

to say was “Thank you, Ashton.”

gripped me for the last few hours had dissipated. I shut my eyes tight and drifted off

she was unable to continue. Then, she placed the child down and knelt down in the snow to kiss the baby. She wept

left the child where it lay and departed on her

I had wanted to take a

in my childhood with the old locust tree and the swing that hung from one of its branches. Grandma pushed me as

well. I was plunged in a midst of a crowd and caught sight of a slender figure approaching

could get a closer look, the crowd lurched

knew that the figure in the dream was Ashton, but whenever I reached out to try to grab hold of him,

desperate with each failure trying to hold on to him. Finally, I

beside me

wanted to answer, but I was