As I stood there, all I could do was weep, contemplating the depth of my significance in this world. I realized that others lean on me, and I must embrace resilience for their sake. Failure is not an option, for their defeat would be my own. A shift in my life's perspective was necessary. No more weakness; I must stand firm and resolute in every trial that comes my way. "Hey! Pull yourself together!" echoed Stephen's voice in my mind.
When Stephen finally drifted to sleep, I took my place by his side to keep watch. I gently persuaded his aunt to go home and rest, assuring her that I would stay vigilant. She had been here since last night, but she didn't want to burden the household staff with Stephen's care. Their understanding of HIV was limited, and they feared contracting it just by being near him. I possess ample knowledge about HIV, and I exercise due caution.
It was well past dawn when I finally returned home. Stephen's Aunt, Alma, was apologetic for keeping me up, but I brushed it off without a second thought. For Stephen's sake, I would do anything. Love stretches beyond limits.
I found myself in the park, seeking solace after a long day at work. So much has transpired, leaving me feeling utterly drained. Yet, this time, I am not here to flee from my troubles. Instead, I seek a moment of reprieve to gather my strength for whatever lies ahead. No longer a timid soul, I won't shy away from the challenges that come my way. I have evolved; I've grown stronger in spirit.
As I contemplate, a tap on my shoulder interrupts my reverie. It's Stephen.
"Hey! What brings you here? Do you have another weighty burden to carry?" he asks.
I'm tempted to inquire how he managed to leave the hospital, but I remind myself that he's still unaware of my knowledge. Whenever I visit the hospital, I discreetly check whether he's awake or asleep. When he slumbers, I quietly stand guard. I don't want to burden him with the awareness that I already know everything. Hence, I've spoken to his aunt, asking her not to say anything.
"Ha? Oh, nothing of consequence. You were already here, so my troubles dissipated. By the way, where have you been, and why haven't we crossed paths again?" I reply, feigning ignorance.
"Well, you see, I attempted to teleport back to my planet, but somehow I landed in the Sahara instead, extending the time of my return. Your world has its peculiarities, I must say. By the way, do you still have that Andromedan cellphone I lent you? I'll use it to contact my parents over there and arrange for them to fetch me. Perhaps I'll find a good reception near the nearby hill. I've grown weary of Earth," he shared, a tinge of genuine sadness in his voice.
"Why? Are you no longer fond of this place? It would truly sadden me to see you go," I replied, my emotions getting the better of me.
"Indeed, I find myself disenchanted with Earth. The oxygen is taking a toll on my well-being. Do you want me to perish from suffocation? Please, don't be sad when I leave. I want to see you happy, I want your smile to be my last memory of you. I'll leave the Andromedan cellphone with you so that we can stay in touch," he reassured me.
"But what about me? I won't be able to hear you. It's not fair. You won't miss me as you can listen to my stories, but I won't hear your replies," I said, tears now streaming down my face, unstoppable.
"Learn to listen with your heart; it will be the bridge that connects us. Through it, you'll hear every word I say, and it'll be the only thing I can leave with you. Trust that it will protect you and be your guiding light in times of need. Forgive me, my friend, for this is all I have to offer," he said, he looked into my eyes and it calms my soul. His hand moved; touching my face, his thumb gently wiped my tears.
"I'll keep our connection alive, forever speaking to you through this mystical thing," I replied.
"Now, it's time for you to go. The night is falling, and you have a new day ahead. Take good care of yourself, rest well, and nourish your body and soul. Be happy, so my heart won't feel the ache from afar in Andromeda," he said with a knowing smile. I nodded, feeling both comforted and determined, as we bid each other farewell.
The following day, I took a break from work, as Stephen's aunt had called to inform me of his disappearance. Filled with worry, I rushed back home to help in the search. Together, we scoured every corner, leaving no stone unturned. It was a challenging task, not knowing where he could be, but I remembered his quest for a signal for the Andromedan cellphone and his mention of a nearby hill. I decided to investigate, hoping it might hold a clue.
As I reached the hill, a wave of relief washed over me when I saw him sitting under a tree in the foothill, holding the precious cellphone. My emotions surged, and tears welled up again, but I resisted the urge to be angry. Instead, I rushed to his side and embraced him with all my strength.
"It's challenging to find a signal in your world," he sighed, breaking our embrace and scanning for a better spot, clutching the rock in his hand.
"Because you're trying to contact a place so distant. Let's head home; it's getting colder," I suggested.
"I long to return to my galaxy. I yearn to see my mom and dad," he confessed, his voice filled with longing. My heart couldn't help but ache for him, knowing his deep desire for parental care. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I knew I had to bring him back; the uncertainties of this world could harm him.
"The time will come when you'll reunite with them. But for now, find solace here with me. Come on, I'm by your side; I won't leave you alone," I reassured.
"You don't comprehend; your world weakens me. I want to go home," he wept, tears streaming down his face.
"Stephen, this is your home. Here, with me, can't you see? I won't forsake you, just promise me you'll stay by my side. Please, let's go!" I implored, hoping he'd grasp how much I couldn't bear to lose him.
"I don't belong here. I'm Andromedan, this place isn't where I should be," he said softly.
"STOP IT! CAN'T YOU SEE? YOU'RE MAKING IT SO HARD FOR ME!" I couldn't help but raise my voice, directing my frustration towards a nearby tree, punching it with all my might. I could hear him stifling a sob.
"Don't you believe me anymore?" he asked, his voice trembling. Still, I didn't respond, struggling to hold back my tears. In a sudden turn of events, he collapsed, and I hurriedly went to his side to support him.
"Come on, let's go. I'll take you to the hospital," I said, trying to keep my emotions in check.
As we stood there, at the foothill, Stephen's gaze scanned the surroundings, his voice frail but determined.