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“Nothing can kill me.” Those were the words of a man who somehow kept escaping the hands of death.

“How long do you think that’s going to last, Forrest?” You would ask him to which he always replied with a rather unimpressed hmph.

But he believed his words. Believed the legend that filled their small town. 

The Spanish Flu, throat sliced from ear to ear, shot to pieces, you name it and Forrest somehow beat it.

“Nothing can get those Bondurants.” 

Until finally something did. 

It was pneumonia that got him. Brought on by what you would call a freak accident. You never thought that day would come. Because even you started believing Forrest’s words. You silently prayed every day that somehow he was right. A part of you died when he was proven wrong.

A year later and you still couldn’t believe he was gone. Your precious love. A man of very few words and yet everywhere you went screamed of him. The station without a doubt. The tree by the old farm with the now broken swing he used to push you on since kids. The lake you would sneak off for a nightly swim in. 

There wasn’t a single part of your life he had not touched.

Your days continued being spent at the station and some days out in the field. Laying in the same spot you and Forrest always did. With your eyes closed and just breathing in the fresh air, you could almost believe he was right there with you. Right by your side in the grass, holding your hand to his chest.

“This must be what heaven feels like.” You whispered to him.

He gave his usually grunt in response while lightly running his fingers along the side of your face. A soft smile crossed his face as he watched you lay there completely relaxed with your eyes closed. 

You longed for the day you would find your Forrest again. Longed to see his beautiful face again.