If Wishes Could Fly

One More Step

The cool autumn wind rustles the leaves below me, creating a beautiful show for the grand finale. As the wind travels my hair is swept across my face, covering my crisp blue eyes that had caught someone's eyes all those years ago. She said they were beautiful, she said she was lost in them, as I was lost in hers. I can still feel her warm hugs after a long day of classes. I can still smell the lilacs she had growing on the windowsill in the summers. I can still taste the warm cocoa she made on snowy days in the winter, followed by hours wrestling in the snow. I can still hear the carnival music playing as we shared a kiss at the top of the ferris wheel. And yet, I can't see her standing here next to me. Trying to pull me away from this, trying to save me. I can't see her. She's not here. I keep telling myself it's not true, but I know where she is. She's sleeping in the backyard. With her favorite burgundy dress and her honey blonde hair done up just right. Her head resting on a wooden pillow, on a wooden bed, in a tight wooden box. And those deep cedar eyes stare up at the clouds, but I know she can't see them. They're blocked by the stone I painted alone in our bedroom to mark where she rests. She loved the clouds, and I blocked them. She can't see them. She can't see me. I take a small step forward. I can almost see her now, standing just ahead of me her hand stretched out to greet me. Here I am. I'm doing this. One more step, and we'll be together. My eyes slip shut, one more tear slipping down my cheek before the wind picks up and my feet slip off the edge. It's odd the noises you can hear falling. The air rushing beside you, and the people cheering you on. Or screaming. It's hard to tell. And that last moment of silence before you slip away forever. Then you're there. Here we are. We've done it. One more step, and we are together. Forever.