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He can’t even feel the tears cascading down his face as he allows the flowers to glide away from him. The flowers are of all kinds, but most of them are roses. The pink coloured plants happily float off far from him now.

She would want this, he decides. When he had taken her on a walk through the garden, he noticed her liking to them. How wonderful it had been to spend time around her, how innocent of the world she had been.

He doesn’t know when he’ll run out of tears. It feels like he himself has become part of the ocean. As he stands at the shallow water, he secretly hopes that one day he will wash away with the calming rhythm of the waves. Anything to join her, He decides bitterly.

The day that has scarred him for life. The day that should have been a joyous occasion. It rings through his mind, taunting him. Ignoring that he still is clutching some flowers, he buries his face in his hands. He inhales the scent, and lets out a held back scream. He screams for losing her, and for her lost voice. He screams for holding this back for so long. Falling into the sand, he presses his lips to the last flower and sets it down.

“I’m sorry,” The words pour off his lips like a serenade. “I’m- I’m so sorry.” Soft speaking by his ear as the breezes play with his golden hair. The warm breezes seem to embrace him, stirring up the petals so they surround him. He feels something brush past his lips, and words softer than the hug. He hears humming, seemingly a distant lullaby for him.

“I forgive you,” It whispers, “Please don’t forget I will always watch over you, my love.”

The sun’s light spills down around him, the petals at his feet with the wind still dancing.

It’s then he begins to cry again.

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