Rational. They were telling me to be rational. I wonder if they even know the meaning of the word. It doesn't matter, it's what they were telling me.
I was suppose to be rational after I had witnessed you DIE for me! After I BURIED you! Who do they think I was, I am? The emotional superman? I was incredulous...speechless...I still am.
You're gone and I'm suppose to be rational. A deadly calm descended upon me after your funeral. It frightened them. It frightened me, at first. But now I embrace it with a fierceness that, in itself, almost frightens me.
You've left me with nothing. You were my only family, and yet we had no relation. Friendship. No, not friendship. Something deeper and unidentifiable. Love is too weak a word. Sure, we loved one another, but there are all different kinds of love. Ah, Hell. Who am I kidding? I was, am, in love with you. And I know you felt the same way. Because you told me with your eyes.
Eyes. Your bright blue eyes dimmed a little each second that ticked by. I know the moment your life flashed before you. You were staring straight at me. Into my own eyes. The blue faded and gave way to a dull blue-gray. The life I had with you flashed before me; causing this aching pain that has effectively taken up residence in my body, constricting my breathing at the most inopportune moments.
You told me with your touch. As I kneeled over you; my right hand against your face, my left palm spread against the cold, wet, ground for support. Your left hand, the one that had draped over your stomach to staunch the flow of blood oozing out of your right side, came to rest upon my cheek. Your thumb moved weakly back and forth as a tear slid down my face; mirroring the one taking the same path over yours. I wiped yours as you wiped mine and I leaned in and tenderly pressed my lips against your chilled pliant ones; slightly smearing the drops of blood that lightly trickled over your lips. I pulled away to tell you, one last time, with my eyes exactly how I felt.
I no longer feel. I am numb. Apathetic. Your touch was the last thing I felt. The moment your hand slid from my face, and your eyes finally lost all blue colour, and a light breath passed you lips to caress my own, I became oblivious to all feeling.
Rational. They want me to be rational with this gun shoved, mercilessly, under my chin and not being able to feel it... They want me to be rational. If I've gotten this far, I'm way past the point of rationality.
The End.