I will never forget what Ed has done for me. He was there for me through it all. Well, almost all. He would have been there if he could have. I will always remember how much he loved me and how much I loved him back. Even now, after his departure, I can still feel close to him. I just have to try.
I just wish that we could have had more time together. That would be my biggest regret.
It is sad to think of how it all came to be. How I lost him and how he did the most selfless thing. It all started with some gained weight. We had not thought much about it. In fact, Ed saw much more of me to love.
He would say, "I love my tubby little Lou."
It was cute. But now I am driven to tears when I think about it now.
After the weight gain, I started to become more and more sluggish. Lethargic even. I got tired faster and stopped eating. At first, Ed thought that I was starving myself to lose weight. I assured him that his accusation was false. I would never do such a thing.
Despite my lack of eating, I continued to gain weight. Then nausea set in. I was getting sicker by the day. Ed had asked to take me to the hospital many times but I had refused. It was not until I experienced sharp chest pains and bloody coughing fits that I allowed Ed to take me to the hospital.
We were not there long before I was diagnosed with chronic heart failure. Ed and I became very worried after that. I was told that a pacemaker would possibly help. Possibly. Only a chance. The other option was a heart transplant. Ed and I had decided to try the pacemaker.
After that, Ed held me and told me everything would be okay. That everything would work out. I could tell that he was terrified. Even more so than I was. Things seemed so scary. It was a simple surgery, right? What was there to be afraid of? Nothing.
I ended up getting the surgery. Everything was fine after that. Ed and I returned to our usual schedules. Everything seemed normal again. It did not last.
A few months later the pacemaker stopped working. The doctors had neglected to tell us that the pacemaker had a chance of failure. It was a stall really. I would need a transplant.
Ed seemed more afraid than I was. At least on the outside. I was terrified. I had always been squeamish.
I was put on a transplant list. There we many people ahead of me. My condition worsened. I was hospitalized. The chest pains began to feel like heart attacks. I was almost always in pain. Eventually I started to flat line occasionally. They would have to use defibrillator on me.
All that time Ed had to watch all if this, unable to help. I think it started to get to him. The poor guy. He would try to be near me without exciting me too much. It was hard. I wanted to be with him all the time. He had to leave me at night. It was really hard for me, but more so for Ed.
My condition got so bad that it brought Ed to tears during his short visits.
"I love you so much, Lou," He had said one day as he walked through the door. He crawled into bed with me and held me close.
"You are late," I had wheezed. I broke into a coughing fit after that.
"Traffic, dear," He whispered to me as he kissed my head. "I love you."
"I love you, too," I got out. I could not talk as much as I would like. The rest of the visit we just held each other.
I had finally gotten a donor for me. I was excited. Ed stayed with me until I was about to be taken away. I got nervous though. I told him so.
He held both of my hands and said, "Everything will be fine. You will make it out of there alive."
"And you will be waiting for me, right," I asked before kissing his hands.
"I will be right there with you always," Ed said as he kissed my forehead.
The doctors wheeled me away after that. I watched Ed as they took me away. He looked so sad and scared. It was odd to see him so fragile. Funny that he was the fragile one.
I awoke in a room hours later. I was not greeted with happy faces. Cole and Jay both sat together, crying. Something was off. They noticed me. Both hugged me, minding my weakness. They just sobbed into me. I felt tears in my eyes, too.
"Where is Ed," I asked. They only cried louder. I remember being scared. I feared that I knew the answer. "Tell me."
"He gave you his heart, dad" Cole sobbed. That was it. That was where my heart broke. Ironic, huh?
I had sat there for a few moments. Then I pushed Cole and Jay away. They looked sad and confused until they saw me reach for my IV. I almost had is out when they stopped me. "Dad, what are you doing? Stop."
I tried to fight them. They were much stronger than me. I had broken down to tears by then.
"Ed is a liar," I had said, "he isn't here with me."
"Dad, don't you think he would be here if he could be," Jay had shouted. I almost missed the fact that Jay had called me dad. He would call me Dad every day after this. But I was not concerned with that at that moment.
"I want to see him," I said. I had no more fight in me.
They allowed me to see him alone. I remember the sight well. He was in the on site morgue. His chest was stitched up, much like my own. He looked like he was sleeping, peaceful and at rest. A bit too peaceful for my taste. The stillness scared me. I wished so hard that this was not true, that Ed was alive and I was dead.
I remember how hurt I felt. His gift was forgotten for the moment. I smacked him across his face. He felt cold. I took one of his hands and held it.
"You bastard," I called him with a soft voice. "Why did you do it? Why? I could have gotten a heart if you just waited."
I knew exactly why he did it. I had been getting worse and worse. Seeing me that way was killing him. I was dying and it was killing him. He wanted me to live. He had been selfless while I was being selfish, wanting him back.
I kept talking to him, raising my voice as awaited answers that I would not get. I lost composure. Ed's heart was aching in my chest. I would never call it my heart after that day.
"I love you," I finally sobbed before kissing his cold dead lips. I repeated that a few times, crying into his lifeless body.
Eventually the doctors and nurses had forced me to return to bed. Cole and Jay stayed with me for some time, both trying to mourn with me. Before they left me, Jay gave me a letter from his father. He had left it for me.
It had read, "Dear Lou, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart. That is why I gave it to you. You already owned it, so why not let it be yours? I know this must be hard for you, and believe me; it was had to write this note. Please don't feel bad about any of this; it's not your fault. I want you to move on and be happy. I am glad that we met and that I got to be around you as long as I did. Please take care of yourself and Jay. I will be waiting for you on the other side if all that after life stuff is real. I love you."
I still have that letter. I could never get rid of it.
I could not bring myself to bury him. He now sits in a jar in my room. I talk to him sometimes, mainly when I feel lonely.
At first I felt lonely all the time. I tried to move on like he had asked. I dated my good friend Feng for awhile. We did not last. I broke it off when I called him Ed. It was not fair for him to be in a relationship with someone who could not move on.
Months had passed and I still felt a emptiness. I had become less active. I recluded myself to my house. I had stopped talking, only to talk if I had to. I stopped singing. The Royal Blacksmiths broke up, they refused to replace me. I stopped wearing my suits and wore my pajamas, even in public.
People worried about me. I stopped eating frequently. I started to lose weight. Nothing made me feel better.
One day Cole had talked me into leaving the house. We aimlessly wandered Ninjago. Cole tried taking me to my favorite places, but nothing helped. He took me to my favorite book store and we wandered the different sections together.
I had stopped in one section. It was filled with "How to" books. I found several on mechanics. I bought them. Cole seemed confused by that but he did not ask.
When I got home I started to read them. I had stayed up all night. I felt oddly comforted by the knowledge in these books. I finished them all by week's end. I bought more books on automotives and about tools. I read them all too.
After weeks I finally went out to the garage and started tinkering with my brother's old car. I used Ed' tools. I had ended up covered in oil and my hair ended up getting in the way. I had to brush it back.
I had gotten into it. Focused on this work. For the first time in months I felt happy. I felt like Ed was right there with me. I had to do it again. I tried everything I had read about. The next day I bought clothes to work in while fixing the car.
I felt close to Ed. I taught myself more and more about mechanics, mostly with hands on learning. The more I knew the happier I felt.
Now, three years later, I am a mechanic for a small business. I wear overalls every day. I am a shadow of who I use to be, but I am happy. Ed is always with me.