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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Death · #2328121
A story of grief and moving on. Creative writing assignment for school

I remember that last trip to your grave the most. For months I had been lost in grief, trying to make it through each day without you by my side. What was the point? What good were the dreams we had shared when you were no longer there to dream them with me?

My friends were as supportive as I would allow them to be, but really were never able to understand what I was feeling. The first month I spent in quiet denial that you were gone; I refused to accept it. It didn't matter that I had stood by your casket on that beautiful day in April, the sun and the warmth mocking me - your "widow" before I ever got to be your bride. I kept expecting you to come through our front door, calling out that you were home and passing me a bouquet of purple-colored roses. The next month I raged through the house, screaming and yelling. I shattered more than one mirror as I waged war against the truth - you were gone, and I was never going to see you again; we'd never make love again.

It was the beginning of December, what would have been our wedding day, and you had been gone nine months. I still wrapped myself in your clothes, needing your scent around me to get through each day, but each day it had grown fainter. As I made my way out of the house, my eyes landed on a bouquet of dried roses, the last you had ever given me. My heart clenched and I turned my head away, rushing to the car. I was alone. I hadn't told anyone where I was going, sure that they would have insisted upon joining me. The only company I wanted was yours.

Having parked, I trudged across the frozen ground of the cemetery, picking my way along the paths of those long gone. As I passed a headstone with a statue of an angel upon it, I cast my eyes away from the sight. I didn't believe in angels anymore. How could I when you weren't there beside me? You had been my angel from that first smile, that first touch. Then you were taken from me.

When I finally reached your grave, I didn't know what to do with myself. I stood before a slab of stone, reading the words your family had had inscribed - "Loving Husband, Son and Brother." We'd been together so long they had always teased that we had been married in all but name. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with anger.

"How could you leave me?" I screamed. "How could you not be here today, our wedding day? I need you, and you're gone! There is nothing in this world for me without you, Erick. I was supposed to become your wife, and now I am nothing! I can't eat, I can't sleep... I can't dream," I whispered. "All my dreams are gone now because you aren't there to dream them with me and make them come true. Everyone wants me to live, but how can I live when the person that makes me feel the most alive is dead?"

I collapsed, weeping. "We had so many dreams, Erick, and now, now they are lost. Everyone tells me I should follow those dreams, that I should honor you by not giving up on them. How can I do that? How can I leave you here and go make that life we wanted all by myself? What is the point in moving to Nashville when you won't be there beside me, playing guitar while I put words to the melody?"

When I finally stopped crying, I traced Erick's name with my finger. "I wish you would tell me what I should do, love. I feel lost and alone." I sat there for quite some time, my back against his granite headstone, staring out over the cemetery until the cold seeped into me. Realizing that the sun was starting to set, I stood, placing my hand on the tombstone for leverage, and froze. Looking down, I saw a lavender rose. It hadn't been there when I arrived. My hand shook as I took the flower and brought it to my nose, a feeling of well-being and strength coming over me.

You had always brought me lavender roses. When I had asked why, you explained they meant wonder, enchantment and adoration, all of which you felt for me. I looked up and smiled, knowing this was what you wanted for me. "Okay, Erick, I'll go. I love you." I pressed a kiss against my fingers, touching the headstone before I made my way back to my car. Finally, I felt alive again, and though I knew there would be hard days to come, my hope had been renewed with a single lavender rose.

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