I never told him
By: exasperationation (former owlpenguin)
The roses were withering, their frozen petals blowing over the dried up grass. Evils clouds filled with rain, thunder and agony awaited at the horizon. A silent and lonely tear fell from the eye of the man kneeling in front of a milestone for memories.
"I never told him…" he started off, only to find his voice breaking. He took a deep breath, the cold air ripped his throat and lungs.
"I-I never told him that…" he took another shaky breath, the air filled with mist in front of him. "How much I loved him. How much I loved every fucking piece of him. From his glasses to his prissy shoes, from his silly hair curl to his stupid cravat. I loved how he played the piano, how he desperately tried to learn me, but I was just silly enough to tease him about it."
Why didn't anyone tell him that this would be so hard? That this would hurt so fucking much? That whenever he even thought, nevertheless saw that pile of freshly dug dirt and that God damned stone, it felt like his lungs would explode and his heart would collapse. How he woke up every night, crying and reaching for someone who did not sleep beside him anymore, and never would again. How forgotten dishes in the sink could stir up so many emotions that it hurt to breathe, because it reminded him too much.
"I never told him… That he was the damn love of my life. That every day spent teasing and being a prick to him was days wasted, because I would rather have held him in my arms forever. That I cried for the first time when he married Elizaveta, and cried again when they divorced, learning the true meaning of happiness and sorrow the hard way. I never told him how perfect he was, because every day he was. I never told him how much I would miss him if he went away."
Like now, he added in his thoughts while he bitterly shoved some dirt over the small plant he had placed next to the stone, humming a sweet melody Roderich had once played for him. Without thinking, he removed his infamous iron cross from its usual place around his neck. Carefully he placed it in the dry grass, in between the violets he had just planted and the old frying pan Elizaveta had left a few days earlier.
"Rest in peace, my sweet Roderich." He whispered, mostly to himself. I never told you I loved you, but I truly did. And if you go to heaven and I go to hell, please never forget me. Because you'll forever live in my heart, even if I don't deserve a place in yours.
"Ich liebe dich, mein Schatz."
This is just yet another one of my drabbles, and on a gloomy December day what else is there to do than to cry over fictional characters?
Jokes aside, this is a part of a 31 days PruAus challenge I never finished, but I kept the list of subjects so this is one of them! It's not much, but it's always something to read while waiting for a bus or something along those lines.
Furthermore, I am going to change my username on here so from now on I'll be called "exasperationation", which is not only fucking hard to pronounce and remember but also less ridiculous than OwlPenguin! If that doesn't work out, I'll let you know.
Please, R&R!