How Do I Love Thee

Eleven

Brett walked up the hill of the cemetery in the heat of the sun, a book clutched under his arm. Shayla's parents had given it to him after her funeral. They had supposed it was his, probably because he'd once written his name and phone number in it. He was glad to have the book because it had belonged to Shayla, the only girl he had ever loved.

He'd been at school for weeks now, going through motions of adjusting to a life without her. His friends had been kind to him, understanding, but Brett knew it would be a very long time before he was ready to merge into the mainstream of high school life.

At the crest of the hill, he searched the grave markers and found Shayla's in the brightest, sunniest spot on the hill. Despite his sadness, he smiled, knowing that her parents had chose it on purpose. Now Shayla could rest in the rays of the sun for all time. No need to hide in the night ever again.

Brett sat cross-legged on the green grass. Soon autumn would be coming, then winter and snow. Being from the Florida Keys, he'd never seen snow, except in the movies and on TV. He looked forward to the cold white winter because it would match the way his heart felt without her.

He opened the book to his favorite poem, began to read to Shayla, and got almost to the end before tears blurred the words and made them unreadable. He shut the book. No matter...he knew them by heart. He touched the hot bronze metal of Shayla's grave marker. Tracing the raised letters with his fingers, he finished the poem for her from memory. He said, "'I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears of all my life!--and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.'"

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Confession: I cried. I legitimately cried.

This isn't the end of the book, but sadly the end of Brett and Shayla's story.

I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you in the next Two short stories

Love, Peace, and Empathy