I sat under our tree. She was sitting beside me. She rested her head on my shoulder. Her long, brown hair cascaded down her back. We spent many summer days sitting under our tree. It was up on a hill, the whole town visible from our location. I would often find myself staring at her for hours. The wind would blow, and her hair just seemed to follow the natural flow of the rapidly moving air.

“When I’m up here, I feel like we hold the world at our feet.” Her big, blue eyes looked up at me. “I can conquer anything.” She said this last sentence with doubt. She stumbled, and my heart ached for her. My hand found its way to her cheek; my knuckles brushing against her softly.

“Yeah baby girl, we will conquer everything.”

That summer was the start of many lies to come. “Baby girl you’re alright, you can make it through this, we have this under control, don’t worry.” I told her all of these things, to ease the pain she held in her heart. Her beautiful hair, gone. Her eyes started to sink in. Her weight ran from her. I still continued my thread of lies; doing everything I could to comfort her.

“Move on. I know what’s happening. Be that great man I want you to be.” She continued to try and push me away. I stayed. I was so persistent. I became so attached; I tried to grab her, but like water, she slipped through my fingers.

That winter, that short lived battle ended. Cancer had won. Her last words to me were “love and be strong.”

Baby girl, I’m trying. I’m trying so hard.

The months passed; soon it became years. I finished college, my career was successful. I became that man you wanted me to be, baby girl. I miss you, Ana.


I closed my notebook. “How many times will I write this story that happened so long ago?” I continually question myself. “I’m nearly 80 years old still writing the same story... Ana give me new motivation.”
I spoke, not to be answered. Never to be answered again. Never did I hear her voice again out loud. I laughed. I laughed a dry, bitter laugh. “That’s okay; you don’t have to speak now. We will speak soon.”

Summer had arrived once more. The old man visited his favorite tree once more. That old, successful man opened his locket which held Ana’s picture. He kissed it, a routine he did often. He laid back under their tree, and fell into eternal sleep.