I stand in the near dark at the edge of the cliff, my arms spread wide as the cold harsh wind whips my open jacket around my body and I let it push against me. I lean into it slightly, tempting it to stop holding me in place and let me fall. But nature doesn't care what I want, it obeys physics not my will I know that it has to be my choice, if I choose to take the last step it will embrace me and accept me.

I can hear gulls cry my pain for me as they weave in the air currents far above and the chill from the cold ocean brushes my face like your hand once used to. I close my eyes and think of you as a hot tears slip down my face.

I wanted, took and needed so much from you, and you let me receive all your love, but now I can't follow you, I can't follow my bliss. I open my eyes and look up to the sky to watch the clouds roll around and the night darken as I feel the first few drops of rain on my skin. It's cold out here on this cliff, but it's better then pretending I'm safe and warm with out you near me.

I lower my arms, wrap them around my self and I pull my jacket closed as the rain pelts down on my head and shoulders, the rain I understand it feels lonely like me and I welcome its company.

I take out the postcard that I wrote you only days before you were taken from me. I have been carrying it around with me, and should have dropped it in to the gave with you as they lowered you to the cold hard earth but it would not slip from my fingers. It has your name on it and I can't throw it away.

I look back at the clouds as they part and the moonlight shines down on my misery, and I remember the last time we were under starlit skies. I feel so alone. I close my eyes and crouch down on myself as I feel the overwhelming need to jump to let the angels cry and take me home. I want to beg them please take me home, home to you.

It's so lonely here at the edge of the ocean, I can't go on like this. I stand and let the postcard finally be pulled away from my fingers by the wind.

I walk away from the cliff as It's pulled down violently to make decent to the waiting ocean below. I will never write anything again, never let my pen touch paper. You were taken from me and this is the last thing I can give you.

Misaki my love here is a postcard that I'll send - my last words to you, its from the ocean.

The ocean at the end.