Often I lie awake at night and wonder:
How deep and dark and lonely was that pit, that death was the only option?
How could stopping your breath be better than waking up in the morning?
Did she have a cup of tea first?
Was she calm? Relieved? Just plain tired?
Was she in a frantic rush, so as not to get caught this time?
Was it fair for her to cherish that last night with the man she loved, and not share what she knew so that he could do the same?
Did she know his heart would be shattered?
Did she have any clue that all these "if only's" would haunt our dreams?
Did she know, deep down, that we loved her? Her smile. Her laugh. The breath of fresh air that she was.
It still seems so unreal.
But it's not.
I hope she is somewhere in the light. Is there a light? Who knows.
I hope, if there is a heaven, she is there.
I hope it's nice. I hope she is happy.
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