pale

pt. 4- ending

She never came back again.

It took me a while to figure out why.

She had never said goodbye before, not until the last day I saw her.

She knew it would be her last time seeing me.

I should have caught it.

I should have stayed.

I was stupid and oblivious.

She had very plainly told me goodbye for the first time ever, and I didn't even notice.

I wish I would have heard her tell me goodbye, and maybe I would have said it back.

I wish I would have understood what she meant, and stayed, holding her and telling her that she was loved.

-----

And that's why, today, I sit in front of a different grave, in a different cemetery, on a different bench, twirling a rose between my fingers and reading a new inscription.

'Tate Matthews.

1995-2014.

Beloved daughter, sister, and friend.'

I stand and place the red rose on top of her grave, a sad smile on my face as a tear fell from my chin.

+++++

No wonder she was so pale, every amount of darkness she possessed was in her mind.