I couldn't make it to the funeral and I wanted to say my
It was the first time I had been outside since I had died.
Months of nightmares and demerol dulled my senses. I
saw the world in black and white and wondered if I would
ever see it in color again.
It was raining softly. The gentle kind of rain that I used
to love to lay in, in an attempt to cleanse myself.
This time was different though. My nerves were fried and
every drop of rain felt like a burning hot pinprick. I could
not stand it but soon found myself seduced by the pain. If
nothing else it meant I was alive.
There was no gravestone. No marker. Nothing. Like he never
existed. It started to rain harder. My tears fell with it,
keeping perfect time to the cadence of the rain.
I roared with the rolling thunder and fell to my
As the rain poured down I beat the ground and cursed his
very memory. How dare he? How dare he leave and not take me
with. How dare he?