The pain harrows deep into the cavity of my chest. Heavy blades of sorrow rip through my heart. Grief bursts through my lips in sobs much too big for my frame. Wails squeeze through my distressed throat. My tired limbs collide with rough ground. Anger boils the acid in my stomach. Mourning curls my body in. Thoughts coated in anguish crowd my tainted mind seeping into my blood.

"I am so sorry," travels through the thick air spearing the emotional barricade inside my ears. Liquid heat burns down my cheeks streaking the dirt. A draining scream rips into the air drowning all other noise. Sorry? The word rears the ugly monster settling in my heart. An apology will not bring her back. The half I was to spend my existence with, the one who curled perfectly into me when we slept, the one who would smile bringing lightness to my heavy world, the one whose laughter tickled me in the warmest of ways, the only one I loved more than all else. She is gone and all I have is the words she left me with.

I dig my fingers into the ground, feeling the small particles pierce my skin. I lower my forehead to my knees, a deep 'no' blubbers through my wet lips. I feel the liquids from my eyes and nose on the flesh of my knees. She will never feel my tears again. I will never be able to console her on her bad days. She will never be able to feel what I am feeling right now. Never have to feel the physical pain of her parting, of her leaving me to dwell on this planet by myself.

I throw my upper half up, tossing my contorted face to the sky. Why was she the one to go? Why couldn't it of been him? How is it my beautiful love with the heart of gold and body of a goddess is the one to die over the shabby, grizzly, drunken man? Why did the grocery store have to be across town? When did the mere task of getting flour for pizza dough become so deadly? When did Friday night rituals become something to bring me to my knees?

I should have gone with her. I should have been the one to go. She could have stayed and kept my mom company. It should have been me. I should be the one to no longer live; she had so much more to live for. Her presence was a gift to the world, she was going to change it, make it better. Now the world lacks the brightness from the way she shined. How my world will surely now plunge back into the darkness and never be lite again.

I flop onto my side. I hear others coming around. My mother consoles their worries. Exhaustion coupled with my laden heart, makes my wails less. How I wish to sleep and never wake in this realm without her. I will my heart to stop.

"Come on Quinine," is soothed into my ear as a hand strokes my knotted hair, "we should go see her fathers." Fresh tears cloud my distraught eyes. She was not only mine to love, but she gave me her everything to love. I should have cherished it more.

I will live if only because my heart beats in place of hers.