mid november, 1995
cedric,
tear me apart, part by part, see me unravel at the touch of your hand.
hear my cries.
may they haunt you as you walk away, leaving me on the ground with my soul at your mercy.
break your heart.
break it like you did to me and all your promises, shatter them and pierce yourself with the broken glass.
write letters to someone who won't read them, keep them locked in the top drawer next to your bed where you once kept the photographs most dear to you.
tear those photographs apart, and burn them. smile as you watch the flames lick the paper, and destroy it to ashes and then fall apart with no king's horses and no king's men there to put you back together again.
sit by yourself as the clock strikes four in the morning, your eyes wide awake, quill in your hand and parchment on the table waiting to be torn apart at the hands of a monster who does not how to handle grief.
you are there.
you never left.
you aren't leaving.
̶s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶i̶m̶e̶s, ̶i ̶w̶i̶s̶h ̶y̶o̶u ̶d̶i̶d.
i miss you.
perhaps you're tired of hearing me saying it but i'll never tire of uttering those words.
i'll say it as i sit on the edge of the astronomy tower, firewhiskey in my hand, toasting to the ghost i cannot see.
here is to my lover whose soul will be watching down from heaven as i rot in the deepest, darkest corners of hell.
happy three years.
june.
