for him [bxb] ✔️

29 // my blue moon

When a loved one dies, there is a funeral.

A sort of lowly celebration where everyone that person has ever known sees each other at a dingy location where they each reminisce over their memories of that person.

It is a time when members gather together and speak upon well wishes along with safe travels for the one who has been lost.

Connor was always lonely.

We had met within the solitary confines of a music shop, sharing glances within the walls of our crumbling classrooms and meeting whenever we had the opportunity to get out of our households filled with expectations and angst.

Within those last days of his life, I found it easy to assume we were all our own and each other's as our presence was only seen to the latter's eyes.

The funeral consisted of a handmade grave by the hands of yours truly and a jade headstone carved from the forbidding cliffs off toward the lake- the very color made me wonder if the colors of jade and emerald were actually the more similar than I had once thought.

Passing along a small bouquet of picked orchids and the carcass of a swallowtail butterfly, it was apparent this grave was made by the very damaged lover of a very dead boy.

The feeling of deep grief is one I hadn't expected to experience at the mere age of eighteen, let alone had the demeanor of withstanding such a blow to the very core of my soul.

Wishing away a boy I loved was able to change my want for a long life and those few months alone with him turned into a few months of agony and peril as I wandered the streets and alleys in wee hours of the morning, feeling lost and in contemplation of a life that had been so unexpectedly cut short.

He had been my blue moon and suddenly there was nothing left in the sky.