Prologue
He was sitting on that hill, the breeze tickling his cheek in the soulless bitter way truth does. The way it worms itself into the best of things. Barely visible but never fully disappearing. Advancing, yet stalking in the corners just out of reach like an elusive shadow that's not someone else's but not quite his own.
His eyes drop to the ground, the area she once stood. The place she had only before, stood beside him and cried. He stared over the wind blown landscape, dark thunder clouds forming in the distance over high mountains. The chill cutting through his skin easier than warm butter. The ice it flooded into him dulled his hearts pain but only slightly, and not enough to forget.
He is alone now again, the reoccurring nightmare firing off like a light. Flashing its headlights, and searing the image back in his mind with every blink, every breath. Everything he had, felt like a dream. It was out of his reach. As if now he was awake, and no longer privileged to such a wonderful dream.
Once again he's alone, horrified at the prospect, but yet, there he is sitting in the gloom of a summer storm alone. With nobody to hold him anymore, or argue. Nobody to whisper sweet nothings in his ear, and make jokes. Nobody to be friendly with, nobody but himself.
He can only stare over the horizon, as it passes. Watch the days as they fade away into weeks, months and finally years. There is no possible way to unknown this feeling once you've had it...happiness was it?
His misery settles like a damp towel, covering each and every glint of hope he had left, wetting his heart, chilling him to the bone. Still he sits there. His emotions are numb and broken, his agony the only thing possible to feel as it eats him alive as he sits there. It has slathered over everything, leaving nothing so he sits there.
He sits, tired and weak, unforgivably heart broken. He sits there until the rain pads the floor of the valley and soaks him through his clothes. Till they are nothing but heavy cloths weighing him down like the rest of his soul. Or rather the fading remnants of what had been.
Slowly he stands up. He doesn't care how wet he's getting. He doesn't care if he dies before arriving home. Nothing matters, nothing matters anymore.
Only a second ago he had been able to hold her in his arms. Touch the hands that held his, caress the skin that touched his.
Only a second ago, he'd been able to hear the sweet nectar that was her voice as she laughed. Only a second ago, the sun seemed bright and the sky was a dazzling blue.
Only a second ago…