m is for malice

I clung to him. He didn't speak. He never said a word, but I knew he wanted me to let him go. He was far too polite to chide me for my reluctance. He didn't hurry me along, but he let me know what he needed. In the dream, I remember weeping. I though if I refused, he would be mine to keep. I thought he could be with me forever, but it doesn't work that way. His time on Earth was done, he had other places to go. In the end, I set him free, not in sorrow, but in love. It was something I did for him. When I woke, I knew that he was truly gone. The tears I'd wept for him were the same tears I'd wept for anyone I'd ever loved. My parents, my aunt, I had never said goodbye to them, either, but it was time to take care of it. I said a prayer, and gathered them up all like petals of a flower and cast them into the wind. What's done is done, what's finished is finished. Their work is done, but mine is left to do.