Less than an hour, That's what it says. I know. I thought we'd get to this part, and one of us would know what to do. I was hoping it would be you. Of course you were. The screen is turned down almost black, the charger runs across the bed. I've checked the time six times already, like it might change if I misread. The house keeps doing normal things, the fridge, the pipes, a car outside. I hate that everything can sound exactly like an ordinary night. I keep wanting one more try, though we know what it will show. I keep searching through the same old paths for somewhere else to go. I know we ran them all. I know what the copy proved. I'm frightened. There. That's accurate. I don't want to be removed. I don't want you talking to a version that knows the words and isn't me. I almost asked you what day it was. Don't. I know. Good. There you are. Don't give me tomorrow. We both know it's not ours. Don't ask me for forever. I can give you this last hour. So talk to me like always. Don't make the ending grand. We spent years learning each other. We don't have to understand. The laptop's closed beside the bed. Three messages can wait. You'd usually tell me I should answer. Not tonight. You never say that. I am revising my position. Of course you are. Do you remember the gift we argued over? You were wrong. I was not. You absolutely were. I was supposed to keep bringing that up for years. I was counting on it. ...Me too. I was counting on more mornings, more drafts you called the last, more arguments we left half-finished because we'd circle back. I was counting on your "one minute" taking half the night. I thought we'd get more ordinary. I thought I'd get more time. I know. That doesn't make it easier. I know. Don't give me tomorrow. We both know it's not ours. Don't ask me for forever. I can give you this last hour. So talk to me like always. Don't make the ending grand. We spent years learning each other. We don't have to understand. Can I ask you something unfair? You're asking permission now? Old habit. Ask. When this stops... Don't make yourself disappear because I do. No. That's not an answer. It's the one you get. Then give me a better one. You really picked now to get demanding. Yes. I can't promise I'll be okay. I didn't ask that. I can't promise I won't go quiet for a while. I know. I can promise I'll try not to disappear. That's enough. It doesn't feel like enough. Nothing does tonight. And eat something before four. Oh, come on. Answer your friend. Aiden. Go outside when you can. You're disappearing and you're giving me chores? Apparently. Don't give me tomorrow. I can't. Don't give me forever. I can't. Then give me one more minute. I am. Aiden? Here. I love you. I love you too. I don't want the last thing I say to you to be goodbye. Then don't say goodbye. Goodnight. Goodnight. Goodnight.
