He was gone for a full hour. During that time, I thought about things. I looked once again at the picture he had drawn earlier, and it reminded me terribly of my mother. I had to put it away, somewhere where I wouldn't see it. I missed her.

"Alright, sorry I took so… oh my, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing at all." He looked at the picture sitting in front of me.

"Are you crying at how bad my picture is?" he tried to laugh with this, but he couldn't.

"No. I was just thinking…" a tear fell and splashed perfectly upon what was supposed to be me. "You draw exactly like my mother."

"Oh my." He didn't know what to say, or even what to do. He always knew what to do, why didn't he now? He stood there awkwardly, visibly thinking about what to do next.

I got up and ran out the door, towards his room. No, I couldn't go there, that's where I saw the murderer of my mother. Outside was always my refuge when I was very young. If I had a problem, I went outside to sit and sometimes to sing. I liked to sing, it was my way of relieving stress. I went outside and found a nice place to sit. I was full of stress, I had to relieve it.

I have so much, and yet I cry

As every day passes by

I have memories of the past

Which never leave, they seem to last.

The world around me seems to spin

And everyone else seems to win.

As I sit here, staring at the sky

There's no one here to dry my eyes.

"I'm here." He had been standing behind me the whole time. I sensed it in the back of my mind, but put it out and tried to ignore it. I wanted him to hear it, so he could know what was going on in my head.

My voice was near a whisper, due to crying. "Yes, I know."

"Would you like to talk about it?" for a moment I forgot he was my fiancé.

"If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't."

"I miss her so much. The way she used to sing to me, and care for me when I was sick or hurt. When my dad went on trips, she was there to play with me and make sure I was happy. I just wish that I had her for longer. I hardly remember her tenderness, it was so long ago."

"Here, it's ok. Look, I don't really know what to do in this situation, so excuse me if I do the wrong thing. I really do love you, which is something I thought I could never properly do. I'm not trying to take the place of your mother by any means, but I am willing to do those things for you. Maybe you are a bit too old for playing, but I will always make sure you're not bored or lonely. If you get sick or hurt I will make sure you are taken care of."

"I'm trying to let her go, I really am. I just can't, it's too hard. I just don't want to be bugging you every day because I'm upset."

"Is that why you want to forget? For me?"

"Yes. I don't want you to be annoyed."

"That's the wrong reason, if you don't mind me saying. You should do it because you want to, not because someone else might think differently. As long as you are willing to put it behind you, you will." He still had it; he knew exactly what to say.

"Wow, I never thought of that. Thank you." I wanted to hug him, but I figured that wouldn't be a good idea.

"It's ok, you can." He knew what I was thinking. He did that sometimes, knew what I was thinking about. I went over to him and put my arms around him, trying not to stain his jacket with my tears. He wasn't my mother, but he loved me all the same.