It was a song that brought you back. I heard your whisper in the haunting melody, felt your caress as the music touched my heart. When I heard our song, I broke down, and the warrior everyone else saw fell. Pain that had been buried was brought back to life. The wind blew out the only light I had found left in my heart.
I clung to your picture, wishing that I could cry just in spite of you. You were the real soldier who never showed weakness, who held me when I cried, but never allowed yourself to. After you left, I promised myself I would be just as strong. Even if the entire world saw the hopelessness in my eyes, they would never get my tears. I would at least keep that one piece of you for myself. But in that moment I wanted to hate you, to cry so that I could prove I was nothing like you, but I could never hate you; all I could ever do was miss you.
It was meant to happen. That's what they had all told me in the beginning. No matter how hard I tried I could not make myself believe it. You were not supposed to leave. We were supposed to live happily ever after. You once told me you would be back. I never got my fairy-tale ending.
As I sat by your grave, I sang the words that had made me think if you. "Just like a crow chasing a butterfly. Dandelions lost in the summer sky. When you and I were getting high as outer space, I never thought you'd slip away. I guess I was just a little to late."
And I still couldn't cry because I knew you would never be able to hold me again.
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