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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Death · #1356218
A young woman visits the grave of a dead love.
Soft rays of sunlight filter through puffy white clouds. Bushes of crimson American Beauties hugged up close to the black wrought iron fence. Flittering birds sing whimsical musings in the large oak shading one corner of Memorial Gardens.
Memorial Gardens, just a nicer name for a cemetery. No amount of chirping birds, sunny skies, or blood red roses would change the gloom that settled into the soul of the sad faced girl who lingered under the arched gateway that led into the so called garden.

Gulping down the knot of fear that had formed in her throat, she lets out a gush of air she hadn’t even realized she was holding in. You can do this. You can do this. Raising her chin up a notch, arms still wrapped around her middle, she slowly starts the trek across the emerald grass to the lone grave in the eastern corner.

Polished black marble sparkles in the sunlight, his name seemingly lit in silver. Crouching slightly, not caring that the body skimming skirt she wore had crept up her thighs, she lovingly traces the name. She ignores the two dates beneath it, doesn’t need the reminder that his life had been short, too short.

“I miss you,” she says softly, hating the emotion that chokes up her voice. Large china doll blue eyes blur with unshed tears as her finger continues to trace over his name, over and over again. “I miss you so much.”

One, two, three tear drops slide down her cheek, linger on her delicate jaw line, then drip onto the polished stone. She doesn’t bother to wipe the wetness from her cheek. It would have been pointless, as more tears threatened to spill at any moment. “I hate you sometimes. For leaving me. I hate the person I’ve become without you.” Squeezing her eyes shut, her knees hit the prickly grass. She braces her body by placing her palms on either side of the cold headstone. “Why did you leave me?” She sobs. “You weren’t suppose to leave me alone. We had plans. We had so many plans. We were suppose to go on a trip, remember? We were going to make a list of every place we wanted to see and we were going to go. You shouldn’t have made promises. You shouldn’t have made them and then died! How could you? How could die? How could leave me here alone? I’m so lonely and I’ve done so many stupid things trying to forget. God, I want to forget. I want to forget the way you tasted when we kissed. I want to forget how safe I felt in your arms. I want to forget…”

Even as she said she words she knew she couldn’t forget. Not a day went by that he wasn’t in her thoughts. Every time she closed her eyes she saw his face. Every where she went she was haunted by some memory of the two of them together. Every time another man touched her, kissed her, made love to her she would close her eyes and picture him.

“I met someone,” she says softly, blood shot eyes opening. “You would like him. He’s a nice guy. Maybe too nice. He deserves someone better than who I’ve become. You wouldn’t even recognize me. I’ve done so many stupid things. And the sad part is, I don’t even know why. It’s like I just don’t care anymore. It’s like the part of me that was good died with you.” Lips trembling, she draws her hands away from the marble. Every thing good had died with him. The person she was now was just a beautiful shell of the girl she had once been. “Do you know what I miss the most? I miss your smile. I miss it so much. I could be having a shitty day and your smile would make it all okay. I’m always scared that one day I’m going to wake up and not remember. I know, I said I wanted to forget you, but that’s a lie. I don’t. I can’t forget you. You’re a part of me. I feel so empty without you. So, so empty.” Tilting her head to the side, she wipes at the tears on her face, no longer able to stand the feeling of sticky make up. Her hand comes away covered in black mascara and ivory colored foundation. She lets out a small laugh. “God, I'm such a mess.” She laughs a bit louder. “One big mess.”

She sits there for a while longer, lost in the memories and the what might have been’s. When the sun starts to dip into the horizon she wearily stands, brushing the bits of grass from her black skirt. She whispers a soft good bye to the man she had loved before walking away, back to the mess she called her life.


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