"I got you too," I spoke, much to your surprise. "I'm going to be a priest," I continued, watching your face acquire an expression of rage I had never seen before; it did not faze me, however, as I did not filter your screams and simply led you to the door, despite your resistance. "Prayers are all I have left, now."


Today, you stand crying by my grave; I can see you, my love, as I sit right beside you.

You have realized how you wronged me, all those years ago, and you mourn that day every night, as you come to visit me.

You have a wife and a son, as you have said to me, but each time you stay with me, you forget about them; you claim not to love them as you ever loved me, but I cannot believe you. I could always read too much of you, and I still can; you would never be able to fool me.

Even in death, I still burn bright, my eternal flame of love for you never vacilating; it is as if my heart still beats, but exclusively for you. And you seem to know it, as you come back for me every night.

And it is in times like these that I pray; I pray for my spirit to fade, so you can finally move on. I sing a low Ave Maria, but only you can hear.

You, my love, are my only listener.

Notes

~ DONE
If you're wondering why this is split into four chapters, it's solely because I'm mobile, hehe.