Without You

Warily she looked around, hoping against hope that no one was there.  Her eyes were fixed on the grey stone marker about thirty yards away.  Good!  No one was near. 

She had expected that once she arrived at her goal she would rush toward it and fling herself upon its brightly reflective surface.  Instead, she walked slower.  And slower, the bouquet of Sweet William flowers she held hanging down toward the dutifully landscaped grass.

No, she thought to herself, stopping.  I can't do this.  I don't want to do this.  I don't want it to be true, and if I go, if I touch it, if I see it,  I won't be able to deny it any longer. 

Relief flowed through her at her decision to leave, and she turned around and headed back toward her car; but only for two steps.  She knew she had to go through with this.  Fear ripped though her.  Fear at what she was about to do, at what she was about to face.  She shook herself, squared her shoulders, and turned resolutely around.  One step.  Two steps.  Hesitant at first, and then she did run.  She did see it.  She did touch it.  And in her head she heard a very tiny "snap!" that, despite it's fragility, echoed through her ears and brain like the clanging of a church bell. 

I  thought my heart couldn't break any further, she thought.  I guess I was wrong.  As I was about so many things...so many things. 

She fell to her knees in front of the grey marble headstone, tears streaming down her face.  Christopher Michael Burns.  1962 - 2030. Beneath the date was written "Delusion is the bearer of an empty box."  Delusion?  Ha, that was funny.  That could have been the epitaph for her life as well - just the one word.  Or maybe "delusional" would be better.  She grimaced.

She traced the letters over and over, first slowly, then almost frantically, as if she could erase them.  She lifted her hand, her eyes wild with hope, but no, the horrible words were still there.  He truly was gone.  Dead.  Never to return.  Never to smile crookedly at her again.  Never to touch her cheek again.  Never to...Just. Never. 

"I brought you some flowers," she whispered, looking down at the bouquet of white and lavender Sweet William blossoms.  She held them to her face and breathed in the scent. 

"You always told me that Sweet William flowers reminded you of how I smelled so..." her voice trailed off.  "Frankly, the smell of them makes me sick!"  Saying this, she threw them violently from her, watching the dark purple ribbon holding them together begin to unravel as the flowers floated through the air.  The bouquet burst apart, and the flowers, some caught by the wind, blew far from his grave.  She smiled in grim satisfaction. 

Then she looked down and saw that one snow white blossom had not run from her, had landed right in front of his marker.  Somehow, the sight of that one lone flower undid her totally, and she collapsed face down onto the burial mound, crying, screaming, and beating her fists against the newly turned earth.

"You fucking bastard!" she screamed.  "How could you leave me??  A-fucking-gain!??  You left me again!!  How could you?  Why did you?  Oh dammit, Christopher...how did this happen?"  The sobs were choking her, making it hard to talk, but she couldn't stop now.  "All those years", she whispered, "wasted.  All fucking wasted." 

She listened, but there was no answer.  From him or from God.

Anger washed over her again in waves, and she began to beat at the grey headstone, still crying and screaming at him. 

"We had EVERYTHING!  I loved you.  You loved me!  We belonged together!  Did you need to create your own life-long tragedy to improve your writing?  DAMMIT, I HATE YOU!  I HATE YOU!  I HATE YOU!  I HATE YOU!  I - ", she fell to the ground; her hands bloody and bruised from her assault. 

"I love you", she whimpered.  "I love you." 

She pressed her face to the ground, whispering "I love you", over and over.  Suddenly she began to claw at the earth, ripping it up in great chunks, begging him all the while,

"Please come back.  Please come back!  Please, please, please!!!  I cannot live without you in this world!  I can't....please..."

Her voice trailed off into a hoarse whisper, and she fell, exhausted, into the deep trench she had dug in her effort to reach him.  Still whimpering.  Still begging him to return.

I'm closer to him now, she thought, her mind reaching out to protect her.  I'm closer.  That's good.  I'll stay here with you, Christopher.  Then when they find me, I'll be dead, too, and they will just cover me over with more dirt and at last we will be together.  Yes, she thought, and her smile was genuine this time, we'll be together at last.  Delusional?  Ha!  Not me!  I have finally figured everything out...we'll be together forever.

Her face became serene and then she knew no more.