three;
where you were.

✱ ✱ ✱

WHERE YOU WERE after it happened was something I'd never forget. We arrived at the hospital after a chaotic ambulance ride filled with needles, blood, and me frantically trying to figure out what was going on. They wheeled me through the hallways, nurses and PA's running around to do all sorts of things, but all I did was keep my hand on the gurney that my body laid in.

So many thoughts and questions were racing through my head. I wanted to know what happened to my parents, where they were going to be treated, for my entire existence refused to believe that they weren't going to make it. I was desperate to find out where my brother was, but quickly found out that no matter who I asked or tried to talk to, none of them could notice me.

This only caused my panic to set in even more, for so much was happening around me, happening to me, yet I couldn't even make a sound for people to hear. I just had to go along with it all, hoping that I would survive. As I stared at my pale, beaten up body, I felt overwrought with emotion. I wasn't ready to leave.

I didn't want to die. Not then.

I still had so much to live for. I had faith that my family would be okay. I couldn't leave them behind. I was hoping to get into Juilliard, to play the violin professionally and live a career that brought me true joy. I had a friend who cared about me more than anything, and a boyfriend who loved me. Ever since I was little, I'd mapped out my whole life, set a game plan and a schedule for everything to happen. Now, everything was falling to pieces and I had absolutely no control over it.

They continued pushing me through the hallways, and I picked up on some of the doctors' conversations, learning that they were getting ready to perform surgery. The crash was so bad, they said, that it was a miracle that the impact alone didn't kill me. They were able to pull my body from the rubble, yet the injuries were numerous; internal bleeding, four broken ribs, and cervical dislocation in my neck.

This one nurse came up to me as they prepared to take me in. Her dark, curly hair was tied up into a hair net, and she pulled down her mask for just a second, bending down to whisper in my ear quietly. "Here's the secret baby: if you live, if you die, it's all up to you. So, whatever fight you got in you, you gotta pull it out now."

It's like she knew exactly what I was going through as I watched them wheel my body into the operating room, lifting it up onto the table. I turned away, not being able to watch, but I kept close by. I felt every cut, every incision that they made. It wasn't a terrible pain, not what I would've expected. But it was there.

I simply bit my lip and forced myself to take it. I leaned against the wall, sliding down it so my body rested on the floor, refusing to let my eyes shut for more than a few seconds. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to fight, but that's what I did. Maybe the fact that the operation didn't hurt my body too badly was a sign that I should keep going, and so I fought off every thought of death that creeped into my mind.

I said that where you were during it all, during surgery, during the aftermath of it all, was something I'd never forget.

You want to know why?

Because you weren't there.

✱ ✱ ✱

You know, Peter,

In my heart, there was a spot reserved specifically for you. Somehow, you had managed to wiggle your way in between the cracks of everything I held dear, lighting my chest up with a youthfully fluorescent glow. When people looked at me, they began to see the light that you put into me. That's how I knew I needed to hold onto you.

It was a special place in my heart. It was untouchable, and it had been vacant for my entire life. I never knew it existed. I only realized what I was missing when what I was missing was finally right in front of me. After that moment, I couldn't erase you from my mind. It would be like cutting a piece of my heart out and leaving it behind. That's how much you meant to me.

It was a game of tag. You chased me, I chased you back. Like a child running after a butterfly, the pursuit of your love and attention was the most enjoyable trek; even if I never would grab hold of the admirer object, the chase would've been a gift enough.

I can guarantee that people looked at us funny. Like we were crazy, like we had no clue what we were getting ourselves into. And perhaps I didn't. How would I have known that you were the first person I'd give my heart to? That I would let see my most vulnerable side, that I'd allow their fingerprints to be imprinted on my soul? Maybe it was stupid to let someone grow so close to me. But you don't think about that at the time. With young love, you only see the beautiful rose bloom, not the gnashing thorns hidden by the petals.

I didn't see the thorns, though. I only saw the flower. And so I picked that flower, treasured it, trying to keep the petals together best I could. I held that flower close to my heart, never letting it go.

For all the things my hands have held, the best by far was you, Peter Parker.

I'll never forget the day I first realized this.

I was sitting in my room at my desk, flipping through pages of my chemistry textbook. School was never my strong suit, I wasn't smart like you. You went to that school for geniuses, I was more interested in music and art. But I knew that couldn't guarantee me a successful career in life, so I made sure to study hard. However, I always dreamed of living my life playing the violin, not stuffing my nose into books.

My hair was tied into a loose braid that fell down my back, a few curls escaping around my hairline and ears. I wore my glasses rather my contacts, and I occasionally had to push the thick frames onto the bridge of my nose every few chapters. A mug of coffee was at my right, a dimly lit lamp at my left. It took every ounce of my self control to sit at that desk and force myself to learn how to balance equations until I could do it perfectly.

Until there was a knock at my window. I froze, looking over my shoulder, my eyes falling on my window. I spotted you, sitting on my fire escape, and I nearly jumped out of my seat. My pencil fell out of my hand, surprised as to why you were sitting on the other side of the window. It was pitch black outside, but I could recognize your face anywhere, and so I stood up.

I walked over to the window, unlatching it and carefully pulling it up to let you in. I held a single finger over my lips to signal that the rest of my family was asleep, for it was almost midnight. I prayed that, once your legs swung over and your feet thudded against the carpet, no one would wake up and find a boy in my room.

It had been six weeks since the day I first met you. We'd been on three dates, three wonderful dates that left my head in the clouds and my heart singing. We were taking it slow, for slow was what we both needed. You are scared, I was absolutely terrified. I'd never had a relationship like this before, and so everything was brand new. That made me more afraid than anything.

"What do you think you're doing here?" I asked as I walked over to my door, locking it to ensure no one came in unexpectedly.

"I don't know, I was bored, I wanted to see you," You told me, shrugging your shoulders. "I was walking back to my apartment and saw the light in your room and figured I'd stop by."

I shook my head, folding my arms over my chest. "You really shouldn't—"

"What's this your working on?" You walked over to my desk, taking a look at my books and notes and shuffling through them. "I love this stuff!"

"How did you even get to my balcony?" I questioned, voice hushed and eyes widened. I knew if my parents found out you were in my room, even though they completely loved you, they would still freak out.

"I climbed the fire escape," You looked around my room, walking over to my bed and picking up a small, stuffed bunny that sat with my pillows. You held it up and looked at it closely, smiling. That stupid smile. "Cute."

I grabbed the toy from your hands, placing it back on my bed. "Look, you really should—"

I stopped when I turned around, only to bump right into you, causing me to stumble a little. You instantly grabbed hold of my arms to keep me steady and my hands fell onto your chest, causing me to gulp. I looked up at you, and you gave me a cheeky grin. You truly knew how to make my heart flutter.

Your eyes fell away from me, looking to the wall next to my bed. I looked over my shoulder, gaze settling on the hundreds of photographs taped onto the wall. They covered nearly every inch. "What are all these?" You asked, letting go of me and walking over to get a closer look.

"They're, um," I pushed my glasses back up on my nose, watching you closely. "Pictures. Cut from magazines, printed from online. Photographs of all the places I want to go."

You looked at each and every one closely, from glistening Fiji waters to rich mountain ranges from Thailand. You stopped at one particular picture, a photo of a city skyline. "This is New York. Why is this up? You live here."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I've lived here my whole life. Fifteen years in the same apartment seeing the same things outside my window or on my way to school. But the skyline is something completely different. I want to experience that."

You looked over at me with a mischievous glint in your eye, and I instantly knew that some sort of idea was scheming inside your mind. You took a step towards me, brushing past me and making your way back over to the window. You pulled it up, letting a cool breeze sink into my bedroom. You climbed out of it, looked back at me, confused as to why I wasn't doing the same.

"You wanna see a New York skyline? Follow me, I'll show you." You offered me your hand.

I took it and followed you.

The sweats I was wearing didn't shield me from  the brisk chill of the night, let alone the thin socks that coveted my feet. I stepped onto my balcony, and you led me over to the left side where a ladder was conveniently located to climb up. You told me to first climb onto the railing and then start going up the ladder, and I told you that you were absolutely crazy.

You promised me I wouldn't fall, that you'd be behind me the whole time, ready to catch me. That was a promise you never failed to keep, which is why I trusted you with my whole heart. Feeling secure with you by my side, I climbed on top of the railing of the balcony, and you held my waist to keep me steady until my hands and feet found the steps of the ladder.

I started climbing, and you were right behind me the whole time. We climbed the remaining five stories of my apartment building, and I tried my hardest to not look down. I figured that if I looked down, I would become scared. But instead, every time I looked down, I only saw your face. That's what kept me going.

Reaching the roof after a little over two minutes, I swung my leg over the ledge, hoisting myself up and making sure I was safely on the flat surface. You followed in suit, and the two of us stood up. The height frightened me, but I also felt a sense of exhilaration, a feeling I wasn't used to.

I always played it safe. I never stepped outside of my comfort zone, never broke my boundaries, never colored out of the lines. Everything in my life was orderly and planned out just the way I wanted, for that's what kept me sane. But yet, here I was, on the roof of a building in the black of midnight with a boy that I was beginning to fall hopelessly in love with by my side. Perhaps I was starting to lose the sanity I once had, but the beauty of it all was worth going mad for.

I didn't bother to peek over the edge, for I knew the ground wasn't what I wanted to see. Everyday I walked the same sidewalk, rounded the same corners, passed the same billboards and never was willing to change any of it. This change in perspective was exactly what I needed.

The New York skyline was beautiful. Each light shone brightly like man-made stars, and I created my own constellations out of each of them. Each skyscraper's silhouette blended together to form an urban-like mountain range, and the overview of the entire scene was like a beautifully painted canvas. Each shadow was a brush stroke, each car a splatter of paint. The skyline reminded me that there were a thousand new things waiting for me out there.

And you standing next to me reminded me that I had a thousand new things right here.

I could never forget the way it happened; how I looked from the scenery to you, and your gaze met mine. Your chestnut eyes were darkened by the night sky, yet the twinkle in them was still enough to light up an entire room. I had then glanced back to what was in front of me, but a feathery chill ran up my arms when I could still feel you looking at me.

You reached to take my hands in yours, stepping towards me, and I looked up at you. It all happened so slowly from there. My heart felt like it was floating, dancing on clouds as you looked from my eyes, to my lips, and then back at my eyes. The moonlight cast an iridescent glow on only one side of your face, and I noticed this as it inched closer to mine. I let my eyes flutter shut, letting myself close the distance, and a fiery feeling lit up my chest as your lips met mine.

It was that night that I realized I would, in a heartbeat, throw my whole life away just for you.

And look at where we are now, Peter Parker.

I guess that's exactly what happened.