Garrett sat by the graveside, as still as the headstones that surrounded him. He listened to the slight breeze brush through the overgrown grass that adorned long forgotten grave sites. He visited her grave every day since they put her into the ground. He listened hard to the wind, hoping he could hear her voice echo within the wisps. He pulled her sweater out of his backpack, and pushed his nose into it. The smell of her had begun to fade just has minute details in his memory of her. He was confused, how could the same God he cursed be the same God he begged. What course could this heavenly entity want Garrett to learn by taking the one thing he learned to love unconditionally away from him?
He curled upon the grass next to her burial spot and used her sweater as a pillow. He spoke to her, quietly, as he had every night in bed. He told her about his day, how crazy work has been… and how he wasn’t so sure that work was really crazy or it were actually his depression since she left him. He knew he was a broken man, he couldn’t move on. His face, wet from tears and cold from the breeze, fell into his dream as the breath from the woman he once loved. He looked at her, as he had looked at her many times before. His love for her was so strong, so raw, he wanted to die in that moment so he could rejoin her for eternity. For every ounce of raw love, he had raw aching pain.
“My love…..” she whispered to him, “My dearest Garrett, you cannot continue to live like this; it is not living at all.” In his dream, Garrett reached out to touch her face, instead his hand caressed her empty pillow.