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.

my eyes closing, perhaps for the final time, I heard and felt a massive collision. It must have hit

saw what seemed to be the shape of a tall and

describe; everything flooded my

door flung open and though it was still sub-zero out there, it

being frozen solid, being lifted up in a pair

in my entire life. I huddled closer. A familiar scent flooded my nostrils, allowing me to identify

was “Thank you, Ashton.” But

him, all the terror and tension that had gripped me for the last few hours had dissipated. I

snow for a long time until she was unable to continue. Then, she placed the child down

her own. The child,

scene from afar. Fearful for the child’s safety, I had wanted to take a

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

was plunged in a midst of a crowd and caught sight of a slender figure approaching me

closer look, the crowd

dream repeated itself several times. I knew that the figure in the dream was Ashton, but whenever I reached out to try to

trying to hold on to him. Finally, I

beside me

and wanted to answer, but