Kiss Me

Have you ever wondered what happens once you die. Well I know. But I'm only going to tell you one thing, you still feel love, and that's the hardest thing you'll have to let go of.

UPDATE: I've added one last chapter and I hope you like the final closure, because it closed it really well for me. Thanks for everything.


5. I'll Always Be Watching

It's been a year since I died. A year that I've watched a waited for him to get better. For the first few months it was excruciating to see him cry and distance himself from the living. I knew he was still searching for me, but I left, just like that. The blame still lies with me, I didn't have to fall away and leave for good but I needed to. Sometimes being selfish is better. I learnt that in the fifth month, when he started smiling again. While I faded into a blurry mass of mist and dreams his smile returned, the golden glow of his happiness shone brighter. He looked alive and beautiful. 

And now I'm here, finally had the courage to come back down. I don't try to attract his attention, that would be the worst thing. But I follow him, and my friends and I watch as they laugh and it makes me smile. I am not bitter that the continue their lives without me because they deserve this life they have. Something about dying makes you realise things like that. 

Saturday 1st June 2013, 3pm. I'm in the park, stood by the lake across from a bench. I can't feel  the breeze but watching people lay in the sunlight with it caressing their faces is enough to imagine. A flower in front of me is swaying and the pink petals are dancing like a beautiful ballet sequence, had that bench not been more important I would have been sucked into the centre of the sweet scent and felt myself float along with the grass. But someone is sat on the bench, waiting for her date. She's early because she's nervous and I can empathise with the butterflies in her stomach. And that's not a ghost super power, its the same feeling I had in this position when I went on a date with the same guy. I've never seen the girl before but she's pretty, like me but completely different at the same time. Her hair's in a different style and colour, eyes darker but vibrant. I'm watching her smile when I see him, walk across the path a smile on his own face. He looks taller and his hairs shorter but he still seems like mine, the same he has always been. But he's not mine, and the kiss he gives this girl reminds me with a sweet nudge n the shoulder. I should hate this girl but I just feel so happy that she's got him and she's caring for him. For these brief moments that I stay I feel drained, tired from the emotions that feel so much more acute and concentrated. They drag me down and I feel my misty form become solid with every spark that flies between them. So I start to stop, stop thinking, and start rising. Before I do I kneel down and try and smell the flower though. Nothing. It saddens me a little that I can't smell sweet sensations or touch the breeze but it's OK. Just as I'm standing for that last trip back I take one last glance and if it worked my heart would have stopped. Because there he is, and he sees me one last time. It almost knocks me back but the only thing I do is raise my hand and wave, feeling something at least. A tear, it trickles down my cheek and then I've left. The park and Earth, back to where I belong. But I know he saw me and smiled and didn't feel hate towards me for leaving. Though I already had my release I revel in being able to come back to him, always. 

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