“I wish that I could have at least given you freedom,” he said. “I do not wish for you to watch me fade away.” There was something in his dark and deep eyes I had never seen before—a hint of fear—and it felt like it was more for me than for him. My heart stuttered in my chest. “You won’t,” I swore. “I will remind you of who you are.” “Every day?” he asked. “Until you remember.” “I will never remember.” “Will you remember me?” I asked, voice trembling slightly, unable to keep my fear at bay. “I never wish to forget you.”
WHY AM I CRYING
