“I’M GOING TO miss you,” Abigail sa

“I’M GOING TO miss you,” Abigail said softly, wrapping her small arms around my neck. “And I’ll come visit you every week.”
I held her in my arms as her tiny body wrapped around me. Squeezing my eyes tightly, I knew one thing.
She isn’t going to come back.
I’d heard this promise of visits along with promises of phone calls, letters, and emails from many friends throughout the years. But after the first few attempts, the effort to keep in touch would taper off and eventually stop altogether.
It didn’t make me angry. It was the way it was supposed to be.
Life carried on outside these walls.
Abigail’s grandfather, Nash, was being discharged today. He would no longer be confined to a hospital bed. His life was moving on, and so too would Abigail’s. She would have no more visits to the hospital and no more long conversations with me. She was leaving, going back to the life she’d had before she was introduced to scary things like heart surgeries and IVs. Her world would return to the simple life of a nine-year-old, which was exactly how I wanted it to be. No little girl should have to grow up so quickly.
I hugged her a bit tighter, sending a million wishes for her future with every firm grasp.
“Keep writing,” I said into the crook of her neck. “But don’t do it to please your grandfather or because I said so. Don’t write what you think you’re supposed to. Write what makes you happy even if you write about pandas and dolphins every day for the rest of your life.”
She pulled back from our embrace, and the tiniest smile kissed her precious face. “Well, I do like pandas,” she said with a faint giggle.
At that moment, her mother appeared in the doorway to collect her. I gave Abigail another quick hug, and she hopped off, sprinting out the door and down the hallway back to her grandpa’s room.
 

 
I thought about Abigail for the rest of the day, seeing her little cherub face in the back of my mind, as I reread Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl and later wrote in my journal.
Would she be a writer or grow up to do something entirely different? The world was at her feet, and she didn’t even know it. None of them did—the normal ones; the ones who didn’t have to worry about the day to day, hour to hour, and minute to minute; the masses of people who woke up each and every day not fearing the hours ahead and the day that would follow; or those who didn’t have to wonder if they’d be around to celebrate the next holiday.
How easily people took life for granted when it had so easily been given.
How I wished for such simplicity.
When the sun started to settle in the horizon and my dinner had gone cold, I reached into the drawer by my bed and pulled out the list I’d created so many years ago.
One night, while sitting at home in my room, I had curled up in my bed and watched some ridiculous high school drama flick. The plotline was the typical he-said, she-said with a bit of show tunes thrown in. It was horrible, and I would deny ever seeing it to anyone who might ask. But as I had sat there, watching these girls in cheerleading uniforms trying out for school plays, crying over boyfriends, and arguing over prom dresses, I’d realized my life would never be anything like that.
Except for the medical drama in my life, I’d never had any of the highs and lows that came with being human. As the teenyboppers had sung about broken hearts and stolen dreams, I’d pulled out a fresh notebook and started this list. It had become a way to almost purge my soul and let go of the life I’d never had. I’d known I would never do any of the things written on the pages of this journal, but seeing them would at least remind me that I could have, if things had been different.
I cracked the worn spine and ran the pads of my fingers over the pages of my Normal list, my Someday list. My eyes wandered down each item until I stopped on the last one listed on a page near the middle of the book.
Make a meal from start to finish.
A wisp of a smile tugged at my lips as I remembered standing in the industrial kitchen of the cafeteria, rolling out pizza dough with Jude. Reaching down to where I’d set my journal next to my legs, I grabbed the pen I’d used and uncapped it.
Feeling like something monumental was about to happen, I took a deep breath and slowly drew a dark black line through number sixty-two.
He’d done that for me. Jude had made one dent in my Someday list.
For one day, I’d felt real and whole, and finally, someone had looked at all of me instead of just the broken parts.
But like all the other times I’d spent with Jude, as soon as he’d begun to open up, he’d fled. Without warning, his mood had gone from light and teasing to edgy and quiet.
What makes a man act that way? Regret? Guilt? Did I do or say something?
I didn’t know much about life on the outside, but my instincts told me something much deeper was going on with Jude. He never shared anything personal, and from what I’d learned from the gossip Grace told me, he was about the most antisocial person in the hospital. He was known to take every shift he could. He apparently had no known friends, and he never attended any social functions.
What self-inflicted prison is he holding himself hostage in, and why?
 

 
Finally starting to give in to my heavy eyelids, I began to nod off when I was stirred back awake by a noise in my room. My eyes fluttered open, and through my blurry sight, I saw Jude standing by my bed.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologized, pulling chocolate pudding out of his pocket. He placed it on the tray table next to my bed and set a spoon on top.
“Not planning on joining me anymore?” I asked, motioning in the direction of the single snack pack.
“You were asleep. I didn’t wanted to disturb you.”
“Well, I’m awake now. We can share.” I pushed myself up in the bed until I was in a sitting position.
I took the pudding from its perch on the tray and began pulling the foil wrapper from the top. I watched while Jude looked around the room as if he were deciding where to go. His eyes wandered to the chair where my mom always sat, before finally traveling back to me.
He took a step forward and sat on the edge of the bed facing me. His knee brushed mine under the blanket, and I became very aware of how close we suddenly were. Tucking one leg under the other, he crossed his arms across his chest and leaned forward.
Oh, okay, so even closer now.
Hello, heart rate.
“So, are you going to share? Or are you just going to hold it all night long?”
“What?” I said in confusion, waiting for my brain to kick back into gear.
I could smell the scent of his soap or aftershave or whatever the hell it was that made him smell so mouthwatering. It was like rainwater, pine, and something earthy all wrapped up in a Jude burrito.
“Our pudding. Hand it over,” he instructed, reaching over to snatch the dessert from my hands.
“Hey!”
“You snooze, you lose,” he mumbled, his mouth now full of the stolen pudding he’d just shoveled in it.
“That’s just mean—stealing food from a sick person,” I teased.
He visibly winced, and I instantly regretted my words.
“I was just kidding, Jude,” I said, placing my hand on his.
Touching him was becoming something I couldn’t stop myself from doing. My hands and fingers wanted to reach out to him whenever he was near. It was as if I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
He placed the pudding on the tray next to us and glanced down at our hands. My frail small fingers were lying gently over his callous large ones. Slowly, as if giving the gesture purpose, he turned his hand over so that our palms were touching. Stretching out his fingers, he caressed the pads of my fingers with his own until he intertwined our fingers and held my hand.
I didn’t think I’d taken a breath since his hand had started moving under mine. His eyes finally met mine, and I saw something I’d never expected to see in those faded green irises shining back at me.
Desire.
His free hand reached up to the forgotten pudding and pulled a spoonful from the small cup.
“Open your mouth,” he said softly.
Taking a quick gulp of air for courage, I parted my lips as he brought the spoon to my mouth. It slipped past my tongue, and I closed my mouth around it, remember him doing the same thing moments earlier. Never breaking eye contact with him, I sucked the chocolate off the spoon as he pulled back. He dipped it back into the pudding and took a bite himself, sucking and licking the same spoon I’d just touched.
It was the single most erotic event of my life.
“See? Now, we’re sharing,” he said.
He dipped the spoon in the cup and fed me once again.
“Well then, I guess you’re off the hook.”
We continued taking turns until nothing was left but trash. He tossed everything in the wastebasket near the bed, keeping our hands joined.
“Will you tell me more about your Someday list?” he asked.
His gaze found the worn notebook lying next to me where I’d left it when I drifted off to sleep.
“Sure,” I answered, grabbing the notebook and placing it on my lap. I opened it up and scanned the pages, remembering the hours I’d spent creating it, writing and re-writing it as I came up with new things to add to it.
“Pick a number,” I said, recalling our earlier game.
“One,” he replied.
“Nope. Try again,” I said, not ready to divulge that particular one just yet.
“Okay, how about ten?”
“Go on a roller coaster.”
“Hmm…Disneyland or Six Flags?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it,” I answered.
“Well, think about it now. Are you a big roller-coaster girl or more of an it’s-a-small-world person?”
My mouth twitched as I tried to hide the smile blooming at the corner of my lips. “Mickey Mouse, all the way.”
“Good answer. Okay, another one. Thirty-eight.”
“Um…” I scrolled through the list. “Oh, go to prom.”
His face twisted in amused disgust. “No, I need to scribble that one out. Give me a pen.”

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

"Aku akan MERINDUKANMU," Abigail mengatakan lembut, membungkus lengannya kecil di leherku. "Dan aku akan datang mengunjungi Anda setiap minggu."Aku memegang dia dalam pelukanku sebagai tubuhnya kecil yang membungkus di sekitar saya. Memeras mataku erat, aku tahu satu hal.Dia tidak akan datang kembali.Aku pernah mendengar janji kunjungan bersama dengan janji-janji dari panggilan telepon, Surat dan email dari banyak teman-teman selama bertahun-tahun. Tapi setelah beberapa upaya pertama, upaya untuk tetap berhubungan akan lancip dari dan akhirnya berhenti sama sekali.Itu tidak membuat saya marah. Ini adalah cara itu seharusnya.Hidup dilakukan di luar dinding-dinding ini.Abigail's kakek, Nash, adalah dibuang hari ini. Ia akan tidak lagi terbatas kepada tempat tidur rumah sakit. Hidupnya bergerak pada, dan begitu juga akan Abigail's. Dia akan memiliki lagi kunjungan ke rumah sakit dan tidak lebih lama percakapan dengan saya. Dia meninggalkan, akan kembali ke kehidupan dia punya sebelum dia diperkenalkan kepada hal-hal yang menakutkan seperti operasi jantung dan infus. Dunia akan kembali ke kehidupan sederhana sembilan tahun, yang adalah persis bagaimana saya ingin hal itu terjadi. Gadis kecil tidak harus tumbuh dewasa begitu cepat.Aku memeluknya sedikit lebih ketat, mengirimkan satu juta keinginan untuk masa depan dengan pemahaman setiap perusahaan."Tetap menulis," kataku ke lekuk lehernya. "Tapi tidak melakukannya untuk menyenangkan kakek atau karena saya mengatakan begitu. Jangan menulis apa yang Anda pikir seharusnya Anda. Menulis apa yang membuat Anda bahagia bahkan jika Anda menulis tentang Panda dan lumba-lumba setiap hari selama sisa hidup Anda."Dia menarik kembali dari merangkul kami, dan senyum terkecil mencium wajahnya yang berharga. "Yah, aku suka Panda," Dia berkata dengan tawa pingsan.Pada saat itu, ibunya muncul di pintu untuk mengambil. Aku memberikan Abigail lain cepat pelukan, dan dia melompat, berlari keluar pintu dan menyusuri lorong kembali ke kakeknya 's kamar.  Aku berpikir tentang Abigail untuk sisa hari, melihat wajahnya kerub sedikit di belakang pikiran saya, seperti aku membaca ulang Anne Frank: The buku harian seorang gadis muda dan kemudian menulis dalam jurnal saya.Dia akan seorang penulis atau tumbuh untuk melakukan sesuatu yang sama sekali berbeda? Dunia ini di kakinya, dan dia bahkan tidak tahu itu. Mereka tidak — yang normal; orang-orang yang tidak perlu khawatir tentang hari ke hari, jam ke jam dan menit ke menit; massa orang yang bangun setiap hari, tidak takut jam depan dan hari yang akan mengikuti; atau mereka yang tidak perlu bertanya-tanya jika mereka akan sekitar untuk merayakan liburan berikutnya.Betapa mudahnya orang mengambil kehidupan untuk diberikan ketika itu begitu mudah telah diberikan.Betapa aku berharap untuk kesederhanaan tersebut.Ketika matahari mulai menetap di cakrawala dan makan malam saya sudah dingin, aku meraih ke dalam laci oleh tempat tidur saya dan mengeluarkan daftar yang saya telah dibuat bertahun-tahun yang lalu.Satu malam, sambil duduk di rumah di kamarku, aku meringkuk di tempat tidur dan menyaksikan beberapa film drama sekolah tinggi konyol. Plotline adalah khas-katanya, katanya dengan sedikit lagu-lagu Tampilkan dilemparkan. Itu mengerikan, dan aku akan menyangkal pernah melihat kepada siapa saja yang mungkin bertanya. Tapi seperti yang saya telah duduk di sana, menonton gadis-gadis di seragam cheerleader mencoba untuk drama sekolah, menangis atas pacar, dan berdebat tentang gaun prom, saya sadar hidupku tidak akan pernah menjadi sesuatu seperti itu.Kecuali untuk drama medis dalam hidup saya, saya tidak pernah salah satu pasang- surut yang datang dengan menjadi manusia. Teenyboppers telah dinyanyikan tentang patah hati dan dicuri mimpi, aku telah mengeluarkan notebook segar dan mulai daftar ini. Hal ini telah menjadi cara untuk hampir membersihkan jiwaku dan melepaskan kehidupan saya tidak pernah. Aku tahu aku tidak pernah melakukan hal-hal yang ditulis pada halaman jurnal ini, tapi melihat mereka akan setidaknya mengingatkan saya bahwa saya bisa memiliki, seandainya hal-hal yang berbeda.Saya retak tulang belakang dipakai dan berlari bantalan jari-jari saya halaman daftar Normal, daftar Someday. Mata saya berkelana ke bawah setiap item sampai aku berhenti pada orang terakhir yang tercantum pada halaman di tengah-tengah buku.Membuat makan dari awal sampai akhir.Seuntai senyum menarik di bibir saya saat aku ingat berdiri di dapur industri kantin, menggelar adonan pizza dengan Yudas. Mencapai ke mana aku akan mendirikan jurnal saya di kaki saya, aku menyambar pena saya digunakan dan membuka tutup itu.Merasa seperti ada sesuatu yang monumental terjadi, aku mengambil napas dalam-dalam dan perlahan-lahan menarik garis hitam gelap melalui nomor enam puluh dua.Dia telah melakukannya untuk saya. Yudas telah membuat penyok satu dalam daftar Someday.Untuk satu hari, saya akan merasa nyata dan seluruh, dan akhirnya, seseorang telah melihat semua saya bukan hanya bagian yang rusak.Tetapi seperti semua kali lain aku telah menghabiskan dengan Yudas, segera setelah ia mulai membuka, dia telah melarikan diri. Tanpa peringatan, suasana hatinya telah pergi dari cahaya dan menggoda untuk tegang dan tenang.Apa yang membuat seorang pria yang bertindak seperti itu? Menyesal? Rasa bersalah? Apakah saya melakukan atau mengatakan sesuatu?Aku tidak tahu banyak tentang kehidupan di luar, tapi naluri saya mengatakan kepada saya sesuatu yang lebih terjadi dengan Yudas. Dia tidak pernah berbagi sesuatu yang pribadi, dan dari apa yang telah saya pelajari dari gosip Grace mengatakan kepada saya, dia adalah tentang orang yang paling antisosial di rumah sakit. Ia dikenal untuk mengambil setiap pergeseran yang dia bisa. Dia rupanya tidak ada teman yang dikenal, dan ia tidak pernah menghadiri setiap fungsi sosial.Apa penjara yang diakibatkan diri sendiri adalah ia menyandera sendiri dalam, dan mengapa?  Akhirnya mulai menyerah pada kelopak mataku berat, saya mulai untuk mengantuk ketika aku adalah mengaduk kembali terjaga oleh suara di kamarku. Terbang mataku terbuka, dan melalui penglihatan kabur, saya melihat Yudas berdiri oleh tempat tidur saya."Sialan, aku minta maaf. Aku tidak bermaksud untuk membangunkan Anda,"ia meminta maaf, menarik puding coklat keluar dari sakunya. Ia meletakkannya di atas meja nampan di tempat tidur saya dan set sendok di atas."Tidak berencana untuk bergabung dengan saya lagi?" Saya bertanya, menunjuk ke arah kemasan makanan ringan tunggal."Kau tertidur. Aku tidak ingin mengganggu Anda.""Yah, aku terjaga sekarang. Kita bisa berbagi." Aku mendorong diriku di tempat tidur sampai aku berada dalam posisi duduk.Aku mengambil puding dari yang bertengger di atas nampan dan mulai menarik foil bungkus dari atas. Aku melihat sementara Yudas memandang sekeliling ruangan seolah-olah dia telah memutuskan mana harus pergi. Matanya berkelana ke kursi mana ibuku selalu duduk, sebelum akhirnya bepergian kembali ke saya.Ia mengambil langkah ke depan dan duduk di tepi tempat tidur menghadap saya. Lutut disikat tambang di bawah selimut, dan aku menjadi sangat menyadari seberapa dekat kami tiba-tiba itu. Menyelipkan satu kaki di bawah yang lain, ia menyeberangi tangannya di dadanya dan membungkuk ke depan.Oh, oke, jadi bahkan lebih dekat sekarang.Halo, denyut jantung."Jadi, Apakah Anda akan berbagi? Atau apakah Anda hanya akan terus sepanjang malam?""Apa?" Aku berkata dalam kebingungan, menunggu otak saya untuk menendang kembali ke gigi.Aku bisa mencium aroma sabun atau aftershave atau apa sih itu yang membuatnya mencium bau begitu lezat. Itu seperti air hujan, pinus, dan sesuatu yang bersahaja yang semua terbungkus dalam Yudas burrito."Kami puding. Menyerahkan itu,"dia memerintahkan, mencapai lebih dari untuk merebut makanan penutup dari tanganku."Hey!""Anda tunda, Anda kehilangan," Dia berkata, mulutnya sekarang penuh dengan puding dicuri dia hanya shoveled di dalamnya.“That’s just mean—stealing food from a sick person,” I teased.He visibly winced, and I instantly regretted my words.“I was just kidding, Jude,” I said, placing my hand on his.Touching him was becoming something I couldn’t stop myself from doing. My hands and fingers wanted to reach out to him whenever he was near. It was as if I didn’t have a choice in the matter.He placed the pudding on the tray next to us and glanced down at our hands. My frail small fingers were lying gently over his callous large ones. Slowly, as if giving the gesture purpose, he turned his hand over so that our palms were touching. Stretching out his fingers, he caressed the pads of my fingers with his own until he intertwined our fingers and held my hand.I didn’t think I’d taken a breath since his hand had started moving under mine. His eyes finally met mine, and I saw something I’d never expected to see in those faded green irises shining back at me.Desire.His free hand reached up to the forgotten pudding and pulled a spoonful from the small cup.“Open your mouth,” he said softly.Taking a quick gulp of air for courage, I parted my lips as he brought the spoon to my mouth. It slipped past my tongue, and I closed my mouth around it, remember him doing the same thing moments earlier. Never breaking eye contact with him, I sucked the chocolate off the spoon as he pulled back. He dipped it back into the pudding and took a bite himself, sucking and licking the same spoon I’d just touched.It was the single most erotic event of my life.“See? Now, we’re sharing,” he said.He dipped the spoon in the cup and fed me once again.“Well then, I guess you’re off the hook.”We continued taking turns until nothing was left but trash. He tossed everything in the wastebasket near the bed, keeping our hands joined.“Will you tell me more about your Someday list?” he asked.His gaze found the worn notebook lying next to me where I’d left it when I drifted off to sleep.“Sure,” I answered, grabbing the notebook and placing it on my lap. I opened it up and scanned the pages, remembering the hours I’d spent creating it, writing and re-writing it as I came up with new things to add to it.“Pick a number,” I said, recalling our earlier game.“One,” he replied.“Nope. Try again,” I said, not ready to divulge that particular one just yet.“Okay, how about ten?”“Go on a roller coaster.”“Hmm…Disneyland or Six Flags?”“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it,” I answered.“Well, think about it now. Are you a big roller-coaster girl or more of an it’s-a-small-world person?”My mouth twitched as I tried to hide the smile blooming at the corner of my lips. “Mickey Mouse, all the way.”“Good answer. Okay, another one. Thirty-eight.”“Um…” I scrolled through the list. “Oh, go to prom.”His face twisted in amused disgust. “No, I need to scribble that one out. Give me a pen.”