Rain

“When I think about the time we had, the tears I cry doesn't seem to end.”

He cried when he was at the funeral, nothing was, or could be more saddening than this, now he was sat beside his beloved's grave. He had woken up about a day after they found the body, and they had found the body the day after the last visit of the same person, who had last visited on a Saturday. He sniffled as he recalled their last words to each other, it was not how lovers should have parted, but the letter had encouraged him to continue for at least a week longer. Their last words before his own big accident, the one that landed him in a coma, had been 'I hate you'. The hurting words had not been serious, but had felt like it at the time. The tears continued, they did not seem like they wanted to end.

“Just tell me where you are, even though, I can't hear your voice again.”

He wondered if his lover had become a ghost, and in that case, he wanted to be near him, he knew that his beloved's voice would not grace him as it once had ever again, but just knowing where he was, and maybe see him for even a last time, it would be worth everything to him. He sighed and closed his eyes, how ironic to wish for someone unable to speak tell you where they are, how sad as well, since he only wanted to know where the love of his life was now.

“Why have you gone so far when I need you by my side?”

He cried out some words, which words it was, he was unsure, but all he knew was that he needed him, he needed his lover back, and unharmed, and the fight forgotten. He dried at his eyes, the tears finally having stopped as he was not thinking about the past now, but rather the future, as he had realised that if anything, he needed his beloved Norwegian by his side this instant, no matter what, but it was not possible was it?

“I'm looking for a sign to tell me where you are, these hands won't be enough to reach you.”

He looked around a bit, if not words, maybe his lover could use a sign, just to show he was there, or anywhere, really. He reached out with his hands, growling as they only grasped thin air above the tombstone. He had hoped that he would have been able to touch the ghost of his lover, or maybe his beloved was an angel now, and resided above the stone marking the place the body was buried. He cried a bit more, his hands would not be able reach him, never again would he be able to touch those wonderfully soft golden locks, run his fingers over his lover's soft pale skin. The realisation of that struck him hard, and he sobbed a bit.

“You won't see the seasons change again.”

Winter had always been his lover's favourite season, now it was winter, but where was his beloved? Six feet under the ground. Never to see the winter's cold beauty again, as more things were realised, more sadness erupted, and more tears flowed. What was this cruel reality? His beloved Norwegian would not see the seasons change, and he remembered just how excited he had been whenever the changing between Winter and Spring had been, had loved to come along with him to shear the sheep and help with feeding them. But now he would have to look after the sheep by himself, no curious lover to help.

“Just like a fading star, I am lost without your light to guide my way.”

He was lost, and he became more and more aware of it the more he realised that his lover really was no more. It had been a week, and he had barely been able to open a door by himself. He had lost sight of everything worth living for, not even the thought of watching the sheep kept him happy. And that had actually worried his younger brothers. And they usually never worried unless it was something serious. He sighed as he walked into the kitchen, he would really give anything to get his light back to his life, but there was no way, other than dying, or magic, but the magic would result in death, so what was the point?

“I wonder if you still can see me.”

He had come to a conclusion, he would join his lover in death. The rest of the world did not care anyway, and they could always manage with a country less to worry about. Actually, he had only been complained at by everyone as long as he could remember, so he guessed it really was nothing to be too concerned about. He wondered if his lover could see him, could stop him from doing this. If his beloved could see, then he clearly wanted him dead, as nothing was done to stop him as he got a chair and a rope. He wrote a small note, apologising for everything, before tying the rope to a hook in the ceiling, then made a noose. He stepped onto the chair, and put the noose around his neck, looking skyward.

“Mata ne.”

Two lovers were reunited that evening. It was Saturday.

Mata ne(Japanese): See you