G
Guest
Guest
I Say Goodbye
Only the five of us remain in the cemetery, each staring at the same cold headstone. We foolishly hope that if they continue to stare at it, it will disappear. We want to believe that this is just a nightmare but we know it’s not.
He approaches the headstone first. He’s always been a private person and he’s probably the best at hiding how he feels. He misses you, there’s no doubt about that. But what exactly he’s thinking, I’ll never know.
He says goodbye.
He walks up to the grave. It’s the middle of August, but he’s never felt colder. He keeps a strong, solemn face on only because he feels he has to. He wasn’t really surprised when he heard the news; in fact, he had almost expected it to happen sometime. But that hadn’t made it any easier for him when he did hear. He stands there, silent and motionless for so long that I wonder if he’s still breathing. Finally, his chest heaves with a sad sigh.
He says goodbye.
She clings to him as they step forward. She couldn’t even look at the ominous stone without having someone to hold on to. Maybe he needed someone to hold on to too. I used to wonder if there was something between them, but this isn’t a good time to play matchmaker. She’s the only one who’s openly crying. Everyone else is either in shock or won’t allow themselves to cry. He doesn’t want to let himself cry, but a single tear slides down his cheek anyway. He hopes no one notices.
She releases the grip on his arm and puts a small bouquet of flowers on top of the stone before they turn to leave. I can tell now that as of this moment, there’s nothing there but two friends trying to help each other through a tragedy. God knows I’ve been there before. We’ve been there before.
Now I’m the only one left. My eyes are dry as I stare at the pathetic stone made into a remembrance of you. I’m sure that would surprise you? If Flack could let out even one tear, I should be sobbing by now. I almost feel guilty for not crying. Maybe it’s shock; I still can’t bring myself to admit you’re gone.
All that’s engraved on your headstone is your name and the years you lived. Oh and “In Loving Memory of…”. Even the loniest, most unloved person gets that on their headstone.
If I could have, I would have put everything. Every memory we shared. Only I would have needed a much bigger stone because there are so many. Remember when we first me? We both seriously underestimated each other. We were from different worlds, both of which had rather negative stereotypes of each other. But I think it’s fair to say we proved each other wrong.
I remember eating the bugs. Mac had pizza in his office, but you turned it down for fried spiders, wasp mundane…and me. When they left, we laughed about the look on Flack’s face. It was pretty classic though.
I remember going to Cozy’s to hear Mac play base. We were trying not to laugh too hard and might have if not for Mac seeing us and staring right at us. It was so funny to see him away from headquarters and not flashing his badge.
The first time I thought you could actually care about me was about a year ago. I was really stressed out and it was starting to show in my work. You calmed me down. You knew exactly what to say to bring me to my senses. You touched my arm, just briefly, but I felt the warmth of your fingers throughout the rest of the day.
I remember when you told me you loved me. You hadn’t meant to say it. It just slipped out. And soon it slipped out that I loved you too.
Stella was the first to find out about us. She asked me why I was so happy lately and did it have something to do with a certain coworker. It’s hard to lie to Stelle. She just has that whole sees all, knows all thing.
I was there when you died. The bullet was meant for me, but ended up in your chest. Because before I could think, you pushed me back. I was by your side until the others got there and pulled me back, praying for the first time in a long time. Praying for God to make me wake up from this nightmare and if he couldn’t, to make it me and not you. But apparently he had other plans.
Now my eyes start to sting with tears. I let them fall. There are some times when blinking them back won’t work and this is one of them. One tear falls on my clenched fist. I didn’t bring flowers like Stella. Just a small note that I place beside your grave. It simply reads “I’ll always love you, Danny.” The note is signed Montana because I know that would make you smile.
I say goodbye.
Tell me watcha think!
Only the five of us remain in the cemetery, each staring at the same cold headstone. We foolishly hope that if they continue to stare at it, it will disappear. We want to believe that this is just a nightmare but we know it’s not.
He approaches the headstone first. He’s always been a private person and he’s probably the best at hiding how he feels. He misses you, there’s no doubt about that. But what exactly he’s thinking, I’ll never know.
He says goodbye.
He walks up to the grave. It’s the middle of August, but he’s never felt colder. He keeps a strong, solemn face on only because he feels he has to. He wasn’t really surprised when he heard the news; in fact, he had almost expected it to happen sometime. But that hadn’t made it any easier for him when he did hear. He stands there, silent and motionless for so long that I wonder if he’s still breathing. Finally, his chest heaves with a sad sigh.
He says goodbye.
She clings to him as they step forward. She couldn’t even look at the ominous stone without having someone to hold on to. Maybe he needed someone to hold on to too. I used to wonder if there was something between them, but this isn’t a good time to play matchmaker. She’s the only one who’s openly crying. Everyone else is either in shock or won’t allow themselves to cry. He doesn’t want to let himself cry, but a single tear slides down his cheek anyway. He hopes no one notices.
She releases the grip on his arm and puts a small bouquet of flowers on top of the stone before they turn to leave. I can tell now that as of this moment, there’s nothing there but two friends trying to help each other through a tragedy. God knows I’ve been there before. We’ve been there before.
Now I’m the only one left. My eyes are dry as I stare at the pathetic stone made into a remembrance of you. I’m sure that would surprise you? If Flack could let out even one tear, I should be sobbing by now. I almost feel guilty for not crying. Maybe it’s shock; I still can’t bring myself to admit you’re gone.
All that’s engraved on your headstone is your name and the years you lived. Oh and “In Loving Memory of…”. Even the loniest, most unloved person gets that on their headstone.
If I could have, I would have put everything. Every memory we shared. Only I would have needed a much bigger stone because there are so many. Remember when we first me? We both seriously underestimated each other. We were from different worlds, both of which had rather negative stereotypes of each other. But I think it’s fair to say we proved each other wrong.
I remember eating the bugs. Mac had pizza in his office, but you turned it down for fried spiders, wasp mundane…and me. When they left, we laughed about the look on Flack’s face. It was pretty classic though.
I remember going to Cozy’s to hear Mac play base. We were trying not to laugh too hard and might have if not for Mac seeing us and staring right at us. It was so funny to see him away from headquarters and not flashing his badge.
The first time I thought you could actually care about me was about a year ago. I was really stressed out and it was starting to show in my work. You calmed me down. You knew exactly what to say to bring me to my senses. You touched my arm, just briefly, but I felt the warmth of your fingers throughout the rest of the day.
I remember when you told me you loved me. You hadn’t meant to say it. It just slipped out. And soon it slipped out that I loved you too.
Stella was the first to find out about us. She asked me why I was so happy lately and did it have something to do with a certain coworker. It’s hard to lie to Stelle. She just has that whole sees all, knows all thing.
I was there when you died. The bullet was meant for me, but ended up in your chest. Because before I could think, you pushed me back. I was by your side until the others got there and pulled me back, praying for the first time in a long time. Praying for God to make me wake up from this nightmare and if he couldn’t, to make it me and not you. But apparently he had other plans.
Now my eyes start to sting with tears. I let them fall. There are some times when blinking them back won’t work and this is one of them. One tear falls on my clenched fist. I didn’t bring flowers like Stella. Just a small note that I place beside your grave. It simply reads “I’ll always love you, Danny.” The note is signed Montana because I know that would make you smile.
I say goodbye.
Tell me watcha think!
