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And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone.
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We were like gods at the dawning of the world, & our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.
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He is half of my soul, as the poets say.
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But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.
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Name one hero who was happy.” I considered. Heracles went mad and killed his family; Theseus lost his bride and father; Jason’s children and new wife were murdered by his old; Bellerophon killed the Chimera but was crippled by the fall from Pegasus’ back. “You can’t.” He was sitting up now, leaning forward. “I can’t.” “I know. They never let you be famous AND happy.”…
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When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.
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I am made of memories.
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