Stolen Words

    I kissed him, trying to bring him back. I kissed him and let my lips rest against his so that our breath mingled and the tears from my eyes became salt on his skin, and I told myself that, somewhere, tiny particles of him would become tiny particles of me, ingested, swallowed, alive, perpetual. I wanted to press every bit of me against him. I wanted to will something into him. I wanted to give him every bit of life I felt and force him to live.
    I realized I was afraid of living without him. How is it you have the right to destroy my life, I wanted to demand of him, but I am not allowed a say in yours?
    So I held him, him ex-lover, ex-universe, life, passion, happiness. I held him close and said nothing, all while telling him silently that he was loved.
Oh, but he was loved.