Yesterday
Yesterday...
--
Yesterday, he woke me up with one of his patented toe-curling kisses.
We spent the entire morning making love and just spending time enjoying one another. We didn't get out of bed until breakfast was well over.
--
Yesterday, he put together a picnic for us.
We ate lunch in the gardens on the roof. It was beautiful. The effort that he put into it made me feel so loved. I basked in his smile.
--
Yesterday, he revealed his love for me on national television.
At the end of their concert last night, before they came out to make their final bows, he stepped out onto the stage by himself. I was sitting in the first row. In front of an audience of over 40,000 people, he got down on one knee and he asked me to marry him.
--
Yesterday, I gave him my answer.
Security pulled me up on stage to the cheering of the fans. As I slowly walked up to him he smiled and he asked me again. And I...I...I told him yes amidst my tears. He slipped the ring onto my finger to thunderous screaming and applause.
--
Yesterday, the guys congratulated us.
All of them. The remaining Backstreet Boys and the rest of my group couldn't stop hugging us. They told me that this was a long time in coming and that they were happy that he'd finally gotten the guts to propose. I don't think that I've ever been happier.
--
Yesterday, he took me out to a romantic dinner.
He said that he'd wanted to make the night perfect for me. Grabbing his hand across the table, I told him that I already had perfection with him.
--
Yesterday, we made a mistake.
After the meal was finished, we decided to walk the couple of blocks to the hotel. Being able to show affection in public was something new for us and we wanted to enjoy it. I wish that we had called the limo.
--
Yesterday, someone decided that I wasn't worthy of perfection.
He came toward us through a crowd of curious followers. Looking like anyone else, we didn't see him until it was too late. Before either of us was able to act, he fired.
--
Yesterday, I screamed.
Holding his bleeding body in my arms, I screamed for help. Many of the people around us joined together and subdued the shooter. Others used their cellphones to call an ambulance.
--
Yesterday, he spoke to me for the last time.
Trying to comfort him while sobbing myself, I felt his heartbeat slow. Reaching up with one blood stained hand, he turned my eyes toward his. Summoning his remaining strength, he whispered his final words softly into my ear. He said, "I'll love you forever, Chris. Always remember that." And then he died in my arms with the music of sirens as his dirge.
--
Yesterday, my life ended.
Because, yesterday, was the last time I heard Alex call my name.
Back To My Stories Main Page
