Page 70 of Samuel's Heart

“What do you mean?” I ask, even if I know very well why he’s saying that.

“I was sick for a while.”

Please, please continue, I pray.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Samuel jumps in when he notices that I’m unable to speak.

“I had dilated cardiomyopathy.”

We look at him, then at each other, and we hear Matthew laughing.

“That’s the face I made when the doctor shared the diagnosis with me.” He chuckles, then continues. “I was suffering from fatigue, shortness of breath, and I had this pounding in my heart, but I thought I was only tired and under stress. You know, life, work, and problems that always seem unsolvable. Little did I know.” He chuckles again, but this time he has a different tone, as though the pain is seeping through.

It must have been a difficult time for him.

“So, what’s dilated cardiomyopathy?” Samuel asks, and I look at him, trying to convey with a look how grateful I am that he’s here.

“Basically, it’s a muscle disease of the heart. It makes the ventricles in the heart become thin and grow larger. That makes it difficult for the heart to pump blood to the rest of the body.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Samuel says again.

My eyes can’t leave Matthew right now.

“It was. But I’m okay now,” he says, waving a hand.

“Did they find a cure?” I ask this time, because I can’t let the conversation go.

“No,” he says. “I had to have a heart transplant.”

I can’t imagine being told something like that and being able to cope with it.

“My life was in danger, and there was nothing anyone could do. It was like I’d been sentenced to death, without knowing when my last breath was going to be.” He seems so detached now, as if he’s talking about someone else.

Fuck! That must have been scary.

No one talks for a bit and then he resumes, probably lost to the memories and not even aware we’re still here, listening to every word coming out of his mouth. Me, especially, waiting to get a final glimpse of the man I loved.

“My family. They were devastated. Waiting for a transplant is agony. You desperately wait for the organ to arrive, and for the medics to bring the news. But they can’t reassure you that the organ will be here in time to save your life.”

That must have been a nightmare. I can’t even imagine watching the person I love slowly die without being able to do anything.

“I saw so many people lose their lives while waiting for an organ that never arrived. Few people are aware of how organscan save other people’s lives. I was lucky.” His smile is both sad and grateful.

“You were lucky, then.”

“Yes, I was. I’m grateful to John’s parents, because they made the selfless decision to help others.”

While I can’t think well of John’s parents, because of what they put me through when he died, I have to admit that what they did by donating his organs was amazing.

“John?” I ask.

“That’s the name of the person I owe my life to.”

His name on my lips has another sound now. There is still longing, thoughts of wishing for a life together, and the desire to have him here with me, even for a second. Just so I can touch him and tell him I still love him, but also that I found someone else. Someone as good as John was, and someone that places me before him, just like he did.

Without John, I would have never met Samuel. My heart aches at the thought, because in the time we’ve spent together, with him helping me move on, he was able to give me strength. To give me hope. And to help me open my heart again.

In the short time we’ve spent together, I’ve fallen in love with him.

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