cemetery ☞ n.m

after

why the hell am i even here? he thought.

he held a tight grip onto the bouquet of white roses, walking through the cavernous and foggy trail that led into the cemetery that reeked of rain dew.

cemeteries were never his scene. he hated the vibe that they gave off, he hated the sense of a loss that overcame him when ever he was near a cemetery.

finally, finding the grave he was there for, he kneeled down and sat in front of the charcoal colored tombstone and narrowed his eyes at it.

anna-marie brooks
1996 - 2017

he chuckles to himself, setting down the flowers delicately under her name. he sighs, running both his hands through his hair and clutching fistfuls of it in both his hands. he grabs a pack of marlboro cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one and inhaling deeply.

"one thing i never told you," he took on another drag, blowing it out afterward. "was how much i loved you." he says, forgetting about the cigarette in his hand, letting the smoke fade into the air. "how much i loved your laugh, how much i loved the way your hand fit in mine, the way your hair flew with the wind," he chuckles. "your eyes. your smile." shaking his head, he throws the cigarette to the ground. "no matter how fucking broken you were. i loved you. every single inch of you. even the parts that weren't visible to the eye."

he scoffs, eying the grave.

"you know what funny?" he chuckles of nervousness. "i only thought i would have to come here for-"

he squeezes his eyes shut, choking on his words. not daring to cry. not in front of her.

he remembers the first time he'd came here to see johnson, he remembers the pain and the agony that came along with seeing the grave of his best friend in a place where he wasn't supposed to see. he remembers hearing the strumming of her guitar faintly. and how afraid she must've been when he approached her.

"it's also funny because, no matter how far i try and get away from this place," he pauses. "i always seem to just come back."

he pulls out another cigarette.

smoking had easily become something a habit that he'd gotten himself into all over again. he knew it was bad, he knew that it wasn't what she would have wanted for him. but she was gone.

"i just don't understand." he chokes. "you changed me, you made me realize that i had a purpose. you mattered." he lets out a breath. "and then you just left."

"you can't do that to people, anna-marie. you can't just matter, and then leave." he says, his voice becoming shaky as he spoke.

and then all he could imagine was her naked body lying next to him on the royal blue bed sheets, her honey-brown eyes fluttering as she drew patterns on his shoulder with her fingertips. all he could think about was her long, dark brown hair sprawled on the pillow in which she rested her head, and the few strands she blew away from her face every once in awhile. all he could hear was her steady breathing, and the way the corner of her lips rose up as if to smirk. all he could remember was her sweet, sweet voice saying, 'i just don't want to get hurt again' and making an oath to himself that he'd never, ever hurt her. all he could feel was her body pressed up against his, as she lay her head on his shoulder, as he kissed away the tears that pooled into her eyes. all he could remember was her, all he could see was her, all he could think about. her.

"you showed me the world, anna-marie," he pauses. "and then you just left it."