Chapter 1


by: Velka
I love the smell of your hair, although I can never put my finger on exactly what it is. Rain, maybe? With just a tinge of vanilla. It's so peaceful.

I could run my fingers through your long, dark hair all day... well, I would, but you have to go to work. You have to make a living. I respect that. I can wait. I always miss you when you're gone, but you're sweet enough to leave a coat behind for me to sleep with on those warm, hazy mornings while you're at work. If I close my eyes for long enough, it's easy to imagine it's you I'm holding on to.

I love it when I hear your car pull into the driveway at 6 o'clock every evening—sometimes 7 o'clock, your boss likes making you work late—and I run downstairs to greet you, to wrap my arms around you, to take in your lovely, intoxicating scent. Your coat is usually wet with rain, but I don't care. The rain reminds me of you.

I love your smile, the way it makes your honey-colored eyes glow like the sunrise, the way your thick, dark lips grow into it so naturally. You never minded that I rarely smiled. You knew I hated it, although you loved it. Your love made me happy, it made me feel good inside. Warm, fuzzy, my own heart skipping a beat when you would touch me.

Your skin, a warm umber and soft as silk, was like a little piece of heaven every time I traced my fingers over it. I traced hearts and raindrops over it. You didn't mind. In fact, I think you enjoyed it. You would giggle and place your hands over mine to stop me, but you never pushed me away. You only smiled with that warm gleam in your sunset eyes.

I never wanted to look away.

We would spend hours simply laying in bed next to each other, our bodies pressed against one another, our limbs intertwined like some beautiful mess. The feeling of your skin touching my own made me feel complete, like all the hurt and pain from years past was simply gone. And it was, for a time. When the only sound was the rain against the roof and all we could do was stare into each other's eyes, I was happy. I think you were happy, too, and that made me swell with pride, that someone like me could possibly make someone like you feel anything besides anger or disappointment.

I'm sorry I couldn't keep you happy. God, I'm so sorry.

You were always an optimist. Even when you wept, you glowed like the moon, and despite everything we ever went through, you still tried to bring me out of it with a smile on my face. You were such a pure, selfless soul, like an angel come to earth. You were so incredibly beautiful that it tore me up inside.

I didn't mind when you weren't home at 6 o'clock on that windy Friday evening. I didn't mind when you weren't home at 7 o'clock, either—you were late sometimes. That was fine. You were only human.

The clock's hands reached 8 o'clock and a dark, dreadful feeling filled the pit of my stomach. I told myself that your boss was simply making you work later than usual, but I knew it was a lie. You would have called.

Dammit, Nesh, why didn't you call? You hadn't taken your pills. You forgot again, didn't you? That's fine. We all make mistakes. We're only human. But you weren't feeling well. Your mind was clouded by the pain and sorrow and all you wanted to do was escape.

I know that call crossed your mind, Nesh. But you didn't do it. You told me once that you didn't like bothering me. But sweetheart, you have to understand, you wouldn't have been bothering me. I love hearing the sound of your voice, even when you're speaking through your own tears. I would have been so incredibly relieved that you had called me instead of finally giving into the shadow that had been looming over you for so long.

I know you saw that railing, Nesh. It was frail and weak, and it would have been easy to simply drive through it and plummet down into the watery depths below. And that's exactly what you did.

You told me that things were getting better for you, Nesh. And I believed you. But they really weren't. You needed medication to be happy, a doctor's prescription just to be able to smile. No one should have to live like that. But still, you fought through it.

You told me that the world stopped when you saw me. You said you loved that my eyes were like an ocean when you gazed into them, and that you could simply drown in them. Why wasn't I able to see through your words, Nesh? See the real meaning behind them?

My only comfort now is that maybe, just maybe, your last thoughts were of me as you died. I hope it wasn't too painful, Nesh. I would say that I hope it wasn't painful at all, but that's just wishful thinking. Stupid wishful thinking.

I'm not angry at you, Nesh, but God, I miss you. I miss you when the clock's hands touch 6, and I miss you when the clock's hands touch 7. I miss you when I look into the mirror and all I can see is the ocean in my own eyes. I miss you when it rains. I miss you when I'm holding onto your clothes, all piled up into a heap on our bed where you used to sleep. I miss you when I'm awake, and I dream of you when I sleep.

I need you, Nesh. I'm hollow without you. You told me that if you died, you would want me to keep on living. And that's the only thing keeping me here. But I don't know how much longer I can hold on for.

I'm not angry at you, Nesh. I'm angry at myself for not being able to keep you here. I'm angry at the world for being so cruel. I'm angry at the stupid fuc.king imbecile that decided fixing that railing could wait. I want to kill him, Nesh. I want to kill him with my bare hands.

Don't feel bad. You're only human, sweetheart. The time I spent with you was the happiest I have ever been and ever will be.

I love you, Nesh. Sleep well.


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