I can’t hear your voice,

That sweet voice that once called my name.

I can’t feel your hand,

That warm hand that softly brushed my cheek.

In books, it’s always raining on the days that someone special dies. Always. Rainy skies are a metaphor, I guess. Though for what, I’m not sure I really want to know anymore.

But in real life, it doesn’t really matter what the weather is, I guess. Whatever deity there is that controls who lives or dies, is going to take or give who or whatever they want, conditions be damned.

The day my precious one was taken, it was a bit overcast but nothing too bad. We’d decided to risk the impending snow that the meteorologists were predicting and take a walk in the park. It was a bit chilly for my taste, perfect for him, but I could handle any weather when I held his hand in mine.

I don’t remember much of what happened next, just a man in a ski mask and black jacket grabbing my arm, wrenching my hand from my love’s. I felt something hard, circular pressed against the small of my back. I heard words but I couldn’t make out the garbled sounds. My eyes roamed his shocked face, seeing fear running rampant through those beautiful eyes I loved. The panic, the worry ruined those eyes. All that my mind could comprehend at the moment was that no matter what happened, we should just do what the stranger commanded. The only things we would lose that way were material and easily replaced; the other way meant a lost of something more than material, something crucial, that couldn’t be restored. I can’t really remember if I actually said this or not. Maybe if I had, things would be different.

It’s blurred from then on. In the movies, everything slows down when bad things happened. But this time, the deity didn’t hit the slow-mo button; it seemed that fast forward and mute were pressed, because I don’t remember what happened too well and I don’t remember hearing a sound. Nothing beyond his hand on my cheek and shoulder, pushing me aside and a soft voice in my ear telling me to run. I turned to see him lunging at the darkened stranger, the blade that I begged him not to carry flashing in his right hand.

Please, I prayed for the first time in years. Please don’t let him be hurt. Please don’t take him away from me, like you’ve done with everyone else. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You can’t take him away when I need him so badly. Please.

During my prayers, they fell to the cold ground. I stood frozen, knowing I should help or run but couldn’t. The pair separated, the darkened stranger rose, clutching his side. Our eyes met for a split second and I saw the coldness, the empty hate before he sprinted off.

And then, for a moment, everything stopped. Time had frozen around me as I looked down at the body still lying on the unforgiving ground. He was on his side, breathing hard, a waning smile on his lips.

I dropped to my knees beside his prone form, gripping his shoulders. I didn’t actually know what had happened but in the back of my head, I think I knew just the same what was going to.

Please be all right, I screamed, though I don’t know if it was actually aloud or just in my head. Don’t leave me. You can’t leave me. I need you.

His eyes opened. The light, that shining light that I loved, was fading. I couldn’t lose him. There was a different shine to the black shirt he wore. I rolled him onto his back and ripped up the dark shirt. Blood pumped from just above his belly button, a swift red river carrying away my darling. I pressed my numb fingers to the hole, hoping to stem the tide, my heart shattering when the blood seeped through my fingers.

No. I felt the freezing wetness dousing my cheeks but refused to acknowledge the graveness of the situation. No, he couldn’t be…My brain wouldn’t even let the word pass through the filter of my thoughts. I couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not when he had saved me. Nonononono…

Warm hands stayed my shaking fingers. When I saw the single shine of the thin gold band and my eyes raised to meet his eyes, my breath catching in my throat at seeing the diminishing light. His smile was strong but his face was flushed, a hint of pain gracing his features. I couldn’t speak anymore, even though I didn’t really know if I’d actually been speaking at all. I shook my head, my breath shaking like my hands. He couldn’t leave me.

He brought my tremoring hands to his lips. They were cold. When he released me, my hands flew to his face and I bent down, touching my forehead to his.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was the softest I had ever heard him. I couldn’t breathe; this wasn’t happening. “I’m so sorry.” No, this wasn’t real. I was dreaming, still lying asleep in the bed we shared. This, all of it, was just some nightmare that I couldn’t escape from. “Forgive me?”

I nodded, my eyes still locked with his fading sight. I gave him a raspy yes.

“Good,” he closed his eyes and sighed, his smile falling. “Good.”

Please don’t leave me. I don’t know if I made a sound above a whimper. But it seemed that my message got across because when he opened his eyes, the smile had returned to his lips.

“Don’t worry about me, love,” he laughed quietly. “I’ll be fine. I’ll wait for you. I promise…”

No. I shook my head. Don’t leave me.

His fading eyes were strong with promise. “I’ll do my best. You do the same. For me.”

Those were the last words he said. Some innocent bystander came across us about a half-hour later. Well, he came across me and the corpse that had been my one true love. He’d called the police, not that it’d done much good. The cops were still looking for the mugger, three months later. And here I stand, looking up at the all too sunny sky before casting my eyes down to the shimmering granite at my feet.

It would be at this point in any good book or half-decent movie that a wind would blow across the graveyard and I would whisper something about how he would always be with me. But my life had never been a movie or a book. And it damn well wasn’t going to start now.

I gently laid the single lily in the grave marker; neither of us had liked roses. Too cliché. I raised the thumb of my left hand to my lips, pressing them against the thin golden band. My eyes rose again to the sky and for the first time in three months, I smiled. A true smile that he had always loved. And the sun shining down on my face felt so much like his hands cupping my face that the smile broadened on its own. A single tear rolled down from my eyes as the dark cloud rolled across the sky and a light sprinkling of rain quickly turned into a powerful torrent.

I stood there as the rain cleansed my body and mind and suddenly, I knew everything would be all right. Not now, but eventually, everything would be fine.

So brush my cheek as your shade passes by.

Whisper my name once more.