So silently do I sit, watching your angelic beauty as the casket closes, covering your once lively face. Not a tear do I shed for you, not an ounce of sorrow is felt. No, this emotion is a burning, a hate that bubbles at my core. How could you do this to us all? Leave us behind to fend for our selves without your rare and lively smile and without your brilliant blue-green eyes?
My stare deepens on the casket lid, that hatred still boiling in my stomachs pit. Sobs echo around the room, not many people gathered to celebrate your life but then again you hardly kept in contact with anyone. I myself had thought of not attending but I had to see that you truly had left us. I had to see that you honestly had taken your own life. Why had you done it? In your note you said you had had enough of dream stealing and having to be incognito all the time. You said that you were having difficulties seeing differences between reality and the dream world. What sticks in my mind the best is that you stated you had enjoyed the feeling of dying all those many times to wake from the dream world.
Upon the end of your ceremony, I feel no longer hatred but regret. I should have been there for you more often but instead, like the ignorant bafoon I am, I figured that none of this dream work bothered you. You held yourself so strongly, as if nothing bothered you really that I guess I was just too blind to see that it was only a mask covering a weak man who needed support. The thing I regret more than anything though would be that I never told you that I was madly in love with you. Even in your death, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. You will never know how much it kills me to have the image of your lifeless body burned into my mind.
The funeral director says her closing words and with that, family, friends, co-workers and lovers leave the room but I remain, holding a deep red rose I'd picked along my walk here. Mournfully, I stride over to your once again opened casket and look at your peaceful face. If I hadn't known you were dead I could swear you were only sleeping. Your expression is one I've seen on many jobs, so peaceful and at ease without a single line of worry. I slip the rose under your folded hands then lean down and kiss your forehead.
"Good night, sweet prince and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." I quote Hamlet before leaving the side of your casket. I exit the mortuary with a heavy heart and head towards my most recent place of living. My cheeks have become moist as tears flow without my full knowledge. Wiping the tears from beneath my eyes, I look to the sky and for a moment I swear I see your image among the suns rays. I shake my head slightly with a small sniffle and whisper to the wind, "Eames, I'm so sorry I never noticed your calls for help.
I will never know what lead you to think that suicide was your only option, but I do know that you will forever hold a place in my heart.
