I walk into this graveyard as I had hundreds of days before, this is different though ... I am different. So long ago I sat here reading off the names of the ones that lay before me. Some dismal beings all alone, lost in a solitude for eternity. Others buried in pairs, lovers side by side. Most not even marked, to be soon forgotten. They were all overlooked, lost beings, though luckily all once felt the attachment of passion, and the blade of adoration at its worst. Those days I would sit, keeping them company. I laid my head on their graves reading poems that once meant something to me. The warmth of security consumed me. The feeling was overwhelming - reading the names of those who died, all once feeling the pain of love.

I only brought two people there - I only remember one. The one I still think of, pine to feel the compassion of once more. I showed him my little domain. How we danced and pranced affectionately on those graves. Those lost souls must have envied us, thought we were not ready for such passion.

We sat on a barren plot of land overlooking the parallel graves, contemplating what would happen to us when death struck.

"I want to be cremated, my ashes intertwined with the one I will always love," his hand moved lovingly into mine. He examined my perplexed face. Were his black eyes implying me?

I felt as if he wanted an answer, so words just flowed from my lips. "I don't know. I probably will die alone."

He scrutinized my self pity, and conjured my thought. His reaction was evident on his face. In words that could not be expressed by his lips, his eyes asked "Did this silly girl truly love him as he loved her?"

I told him to kiss me, never let me go. I nuzzled my lips into his, buried my face on his shoulder, enfolded him dearer, in hopes to hide the black pearls which wept from my eyes. He suddenly asked why I would die alone.

I knew no reply, but what laid deep in my heart. "I will hate you in the end. I always end up hating. You will curse the day you ever put your pure eyes on me."

"No, I could never! I will always love you." He pulled back from my grasp, hoping to get a glimpse of the secrets that hid themselves in my eyes. He put his hand on my cheek and stared at my innocent trembling skin. I could feel his body tense, his hand starting to shake. My dark hair concealed my face from his petrified pallor that lurked before me. Placing my ear on his chest to hear his heart beat, I hid from the blazing sun burning my focus. Skipping its melodic tunes, it stopped. As his heart started to beat again, I feel asleep, wishing to never wake. Lost in sadness, I faded to an existence I had always tried to avoid. Petrified we would someday say our good-byes, I held onto him with all my strength. I tried to believe his presence would always make me feel like this, not alone. I was so lost, frightened of the shadows that lurked in his words. I knew it would not last, everyone must lie, die, say good-bye. So we engulfed ourselves in wonders that would carry my heart for eternity. As we snuggled our heads on each other; we contorted our bodies together, intertwined as much as we ever could be.

Now I stand at that open grave, not open anymore. I hadn't entered that graveyard since I was first told I was loved.

I knelt down and started weeping the tears I would not reveal to him before. All the dead souls laughing in my head, "I told you so!" Insisting we were too young, naive, too in love to have danced in the trance of a place of lost loves.

How I hated that feeling in my stomach, the knots of disgust tormenting me. I purged myself of this detested feeling, pouring all my anger out to the boy who lay sleeping underneath the moist soil. I pounded, screamed enraged myself, on that grave before me.

"Why was he taken from me?" I fell on top of the land where we once pranced and laughed. I felt my heart dying, disintegrating to nothing. My tears swept to the ground, my face fell upon the gravestone. I brushed my hand across the engraved name that did not spell the name of my lost love. I ignored that little contradiction. It wasn't important, at least not to me. I carried on and chatted to a soul who wasn't before me. Cuddling in a ball, sensing warmth consuming the pain that ate away at my wretched heart, I felt that I should leave, or I might never be able to stand. My present for him lay beside me - a rose of immense beauty. So I kissed that dead rose, and dropped it on the grave. So many roses he had given me. He had said roses lasted forever. Roses die, and so did he in my heart and mind. As I picked myself up from that horrid sight, I tried to forget my misery. I gazed upon that grave, to remember it in vivid loveliness. I began to totter away, inadvertently tripping over his gravestone. 1