Alone, he thought, that's what I am now. Sadness washed over him as they lowered his love into the ground. Tears sprung to his eyes on cue as everyone started to walk away leaving him alone, like he normally is. He didn't know what else to do besides stare at the coffin that held her.
"Ryan, honey." His mother's soft voice called.
He turned around. He hasn't used his voice since Melina had become sick. Nods and stares had become enough to satisfy everyone.
"We're getting ready to go." She smiles deeply at her son.
Ryan stares at his mother and starts to walk toward her. His mother hopes he is walking toward her for a hug or a shoulder to cry on, but he climbs into her small car without a word. Slightly frowning she opens her own door and starts her car. Ryan has not gone to anybody for comfort since Melina had passed.
As they drove, Ryan is completely still and grieves in silence with his loving mother beside him. Tasting the salty substance, he wiped his smooth face.
Memories swarm his tired mind. Memories like when Melina told him she was sick. White walls had embraced Ryan's sobs as he held her as if it was the last time. Memories of her fourteen year old face in front of him when Ryan first told her that he loved her. Her adoring hazel eyes watching him tap a pen to his chin thinking of the next line to write for his Melina.
"Ryan!" shouted a voice.
He turned his head sharply to find his mother looking worriedly at him. She had been calling his name for what seemed like hours. He nods as if to say "I'm okay."
She nods back, and drives with a frown on her aged face, and Ryan stares doe-like as his mind captivates his body, slowly losing control, he slips into unconscious.
---
Forty years later, Ryan is sitting in his small cottage, staring at a black TV that is most likely unplugged. He smiles softly at a memory of Melina reminding him to always unplug the TV when they left home. Staring at the tan carpet that was white when they moved into the house when they were newlyweds, he clenches his fists in griefl.
His shoes suddenly become interesting as his mind reminds him of what he lost. He lost the gold in him that only she can restore. Without warning, memories flood into his mind of Melina. A heart wrenching cry sounds from his mouth as his lips push upwards and tears stream from his black and blue eyes. Her delicate fingers brushing through his wild blonde hair that he never cut. Hazel eyes meeting his deep blue ones. Soft arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. Or how when she was diagnosed with the dreadful lung cancer at twenty-four, those arms had lovingly embraced him with an unexplainable dread.
His hands cradle his face and his inner demons finish his thoughts for himself.
She's not here,
She never will be,
You lost her,
You can't bring her back.
But he can bring her back. Awful times creep into his mind. Children in the community gave him hope. When he was twenty-nine, two years after her death, the children in the community, Almond Fields, had told him of The Harp. The old tale was that whatever you wanted, the Harp would make it reality. But if you said "I wish", you were a goner. The Harp did not give wishes, especially to the selfish. At that time he would do anything to see her again. The idea of seeing her one more time just made his love for her so much stronger. Due to his misery, he went off trying to find it. He wrote constantly. Mostly about her. But this one page, this one miserable page, had escaped his book of secrets. Years later, he is taunted. The page consisted of how he would find that harp and bring his beloved Melina back. The same children that gave him hope also gave him misery.
