In Your Memory

He stood over her grave, placing daisies against her tombstone. He supposed that roses might have been more appropriate, but she was not the love of his existence. He dared not to think the phrase "the love of his life", for he had little life to start with. It was she who would receive the roses of love, while the one below him had received the daisies symbolizing friendship. She had been a good friend, a best friend. Though he once thought of her as a love, he came to realize that she would never be his true soul-mate only when it was too late. He had once believed that he loved her with a fervent, true love, but he had come to be wrong.

Her requiem chant echoed through his mind. Images and sounds of mourning and death haunted his soul, threatening insanity upon him. She had upset him in the past few months, and it was more than he could bear. He had ended the relationship and had moved on to better things. . . including his soul-mate, the love of his existence. The thoughts of what he had done washed over him in a wave of regret and despair. He would have been free in a few months - if only he had waited.

He blamed himself for her death, though he took no part in it. She had died in an accident, and a horrible one at that. Still, his heart burned in the flames of pain and guilt, and he felt more sorrow than he ever had in his existence. Stubborn and determined not to cry, he clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, fighting back the impending tears. He needed to be strong - stronger than he ever had before.

If not for his love, he would consider suicide. Suicide was a quick way to relieve him of all the pain - the easy way out. He knew that he couldn't be such a coward, and he knew the risks of killing himself. It was a losing gamble to destroy what remained of his humanity.

His friend would never return, though; unlike so many others, he would never see her again. That thought was a lingering presence in his mind. Death did not bother him; he did not fear it, for he knew that there would always be an afterlife.

His strength was diminishing, his bravado was slipping from underneath him. A few tears escaped his eyes, making him feel horribly cold and bitter. He despised it when he cried - it made him feel weak.

He then heard a soft, rustling sound, followed by the cool breath of someone standing next to him. He turned to find his new and true love, his soul-mate, standing there - upon the grave of his old love and friend.

Without a word, she gently wiped the tears from his eyes. She was crying as well, her eyes were glazed over slightly, brimming with tears. He embraced her, his heart now ablaze with new flames - flames of an undying, pure love. She did not know his friend, and yet she mourned for the "stranger". He now dried her tears, lightly running his fingers down the side of her pale face, finding that her skin was as icy and wintry as that day. Even in sorrow, she was disturbingly beautiful to him - a goddess of the dawn awakening him from his world of perpetual night. She was his light in the darkness, his star in the midnight. It was wrong for her to weep like this.

She reached up - for he was taller than she - and stroked his hair, trying to comfort him. He kissed her forehead, then placed his fingertips under her chin and angled her face toward his own. He kissed her lips tenderly, enjoying the feel of the sparks between them - little flickers of hope among despair. Just barely, he pulled away, letting his lips linger on hers. She kissed him back passionately - yet carefully - and then turned her face to look at the tombstone. He read it as well, gazing at the carved words - words which would be engraved into his mind forever. Quietly - under his breath and barely audible - he whispered, "Goodbye. May you rest in peace."