Afterwards, all I’m left with are broken dreams and promises, the smell of burnt love letters, and a sound like static on the radio, mixed with the noise an engine makes and the clash of steel pans, and the rain falling in inky pools.

***

In my mind, it’s night, and the birds are screaming, the foxes shrieking, babies howling.

It’s raining, not a heavy stormy rain, but a thick mist that gets inside you no matter what. And He’s there, he’s been there all along, calling my name, calling me to him. And then, in an instant I weaken and look into his eyes, and there’s light and I’m falling so fast and far I think I’ll never land. It’s not the fall that kills you though, it’s the landing. And I do land, and tomorrow starts.

***

Tomorrow comes and I wake, calling his name in the darkness, the memory of a hundred yesterdays burnt on my eyes, in my ears. It’s a sadness I’ve never known before, deep and unending as love itself.