Page 101 of Let the Light Shine Through

“No. That’s what I think of me.”

Now my chest expands into her back, and I strengthen my arms, holding Gia’s up again.

“You’re the one responsible for bringing the light back into my life. You.”

“But you’re the one that let me,” she whispers, and now that I have a better perspective on everything that’s happened, I see that she’s right. It was a choice and I chose to let the light shine through my life again.

Our fingers slide along each other’s, making every nerve ending on my body stand at attention.

“You’re so much bigger than a star, or a dwarf planet. You’re the sun, enhancing everyone’s beauty with your own. The sun’s so confident, so powerful—without even trying—that even on the darkest of nights, its light can still be felt, reflecting off the moon. When I look out there,” I nod at the scenery before us, “all I see is the light, not the dark. All I see is you, Gia.”

She says, “Right now that’s all you see,” bringing our arms down to curl around her middle.

I hug her tighter. “That’s all I’ve seen for four months now, and it’s not changing. Even if I fall back into the dark, I’ll still see you. I’ll still choose to see you.”

A beat of silence passes between us, but I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

“Do you know what I see?”

I shake my head.

“Unfocus your eyes.”

I don’t want to. I don’t want her to tell me anything that’ll ruin the picture I’ve engrained in my mind, but I listen anyway, letting my eyesight drift lazily without focusing on any one thing in particular.

“What am I looking for?”

“Just wait.”

It takes a bit of effort, but after a while, everything around us changes. Where there was only a stationary setting before, now is a lively production of lights. Tiny flickering lights. Everywhere.

“What the—?” I look down, finding Gia gazing up at me instead of the landscape before us. “Are those fireflies?”

She nods slowly, glancing down at the forest’s version of a pyrotechnic display.

“Not everyone realizes they’re there. They’re tricky like that.” I can hear her smile. “They put on these magnetizing performances at night, but as soon as their natural glow’s no longer visible, they’re forgotten about, almost completely.”

“So…bugs? You see bugs when you look out there?”

“You. I see you out there. I saw you when you couldn’t, when you refused to. I see you when you think nobody else ever will. I see you for everything you were then and everything you are now. I see you when I’m trying not to. I’ve seen you from that first day and I haven’t stopped, not even once, because to me, you do still glow, whether you’re drowning in shadows or you’re basking in the spotlight. But I’m fucking terrified that when my time comes to explode into nothingness, I’ll swallow it up like a black hole.”

“Maybe mine already blinked out.”

“It didn’t.”

“It feels like it did.”

“As soon as you stop trying to suffocate it, you’ll feel it again. You took away snowboarding as punishment to your friend for leaving you, but hurting yourself in the process is the punishment. Your first love was boarding, but Salvy’s wasn’t. You’re self-sabotaging for no reason other than to self-sabotage.”

“I could say the same thing about you. You’re avoiding a relationship with me for self-preservation.”

“It’s not for my protection.” She spins in my arms, staring up at me. “It’s for yours.”

“I’m sorry your mom and grandma got sick,” I tell her honestly. “I’m sorry you think it’s going to happen to you, and I’m sorry you think I’m too weak to stick around even if it does but, baby, I’m not quitting you.”

Her brown eyes fill with tears.

“You do realize cancer is fatal, right?”