by Elspeth (E.) Rose
There has always been something about her that attracted me to her. The way her face fills with joy when she's happy, the way she blushed in embarrassment, do not add nor subtract from this single, solitary, genuine feature. There's something about her smile.
"She" is my girlfriend. I had never been with a girl before, and being with her changed my world. She expanded my horizons through real-world experiences. I love her with all my heart and soul.
More correctly, I loved her. My darling, the dearest thing to me in the whole world, is dead. If I still had a religious soul, I am sure I would think otherwise. I will never see her again.
My sweetheart is dead. It was cancer that killed her, not any of the diseases we lesbians are rumored to carry. The doctors did all they could, but failed. I could not even save her.
There is something about her smile.
Author's Note: I would like to give my condolescences to all those who were deeply affected by the terrorist attacks, especially if you have missing or dead loved ones. Tuesday, September 11, 2001, was a terrible day in history. But I would also like to congratulate some friends of mine, who had a baby girl, Eliza, born the other day.
~E. Rose