December

I can't seem to recall the last time we were here; no wait, I remember, it was sometime in December. We were young back then, you and I, thinking about what we wanted to do before we'd die.

You said you wanted to fall in love, and that you couldn't wait; you got what you wanted, you've got the perfect mate. I said I wanted the same, but with a twist; though I can't seem to remember the rest, there's too much on the list.

Three weeks later I discovered you had passed, and my heart began to feel heavy as if an evil spell had been cast. I pleaded and pleaded, though you did not awake; I cursed the sky and clouds above, and told the man upstairs to find someone else to take.

Sometimes I think about you, no all the time; sometimes I feel that it's my fault, like I've committed some sort of crime. We had a wrathful fight, something I wish I could undo; because I never meant any of it, never wanted to hurt you.

You ran outside still cursing my name, and without looking first you decided to play fate's game. Unfortunately, fate had won and you had not; I can still remember the sound of the gun shot.

Forgive me please, for I cannot go on; this story is tragic, and the beginning of the end is about to dawn. One more time for the sake of us, one more time and I will no longer fuss; I'm coming home my love, coming home, back above.