Gwen's POV
I see him at least once a day. Usually more. He stops by my grave.
Sometimes he stares, sometimes he sobs, sometimes he cries out in anger. I'm worried about him. I wish I could talk to him again. Hug him, kiss him, love him again.
I feel terrible because I'm keeping him from his life. The city that had never been truly grateful is falling apart now that he's not there. They need him. More than I do.
Peter, if you can hear me. I love you. Forever and always. But they need you, they need hope, in their lives. You made a difference in my life, now go change theirs.