I'll Follow You
By Mickey M.
©
March 1997
I'm coming, love.
I wish I could ask permission ahead of time,
like you did of me. Do you know how hard that was? Giving you permission to
leave me...letting you go like that? I still don't know where I found the
courage--but I could see that you needed to be let loose. Your time here was
done, even if I wasn't ready to see it.
I'm still not ready to see it. I've lived
without you by my side for almost six months now...and I miss you as much with
each new day as I did the day before.
There's not a day goes by I don't remember
how much we loved--and how long we were given for it. There're not many who
manage for as long as we did, and many of those with far fewer obstacles to
face.
If I close my eyes I can still feel the
weight of your body on mine...the feel of your lips as they press against me; I
can hear your heartbeat beneath my cheek as we lay cuddling after making love.
I can taste your essence on my tongue, and know it was me that gave you that
pleasure--the kind that caused you to throw your head back and scream as you
came into me.
I'm lonely. I miss you. I miss you so bad
that the ache has become an unbearable physical thing--it fades somewhat during
the daytime, when there are perhaps things to keep me busy, but at night it
keeps me awake, stabbing me.
I long to hold you; touch you; kiss you.
Feel your mouth giving way beneath mine, opening for me. I don't know how much
longer I can go on feeling this way...I don't know that I want to try.
I'm ready to join you--I only wish I could
ask you, the same as you did me.
Will you welcome me, in that unknown place?
Will you still love me...want me...need me? I can't imagine that Paradise could
be named thus if you're not there with me.
I can feel my physical body growing weaker
every day--it won't be long now. I want only to be with you--as I was every day
for 50 years and then some. Working together, playing together, loving
together. Held tight in a protective embrace, loved and cherished. We kept each
other safe, didn't we? Safe from the world that seemed to work against lovers.
I know you didn't want to leave; weren't
given a choice. I don't hold that against you. I don't hold it against you that
you needed to ask to go--I only regret that you had to. I'm sorry I fought it
for so long...made you ask for something that was yours by right. Please
forgive me for that.
I'm coming, love. Be ready for me...I'll be
there soon.
*********************************
Darryl Banks let himself into the loft
quietly. He'd been coming by for so long, he'd finally been given his own key.
Ever since Dad passed on several years ago, he'd felt honor-bound to check on
Jim and Blair--they didn't have anyone to watch over them like his Dad had had.
Once in a while Darryl would bring his children, or grandchildren--Blair
especially seemed to enjoy the company of the little ones, and watching them
play together had made his heart a little less heavy from missing Dad.
Now there was just one.
Darryl frowned in the early morning
light--the loft was quiet. Too quiet. He looked around; nothing seemed amiss.
The hair on the back of neck prickled then,
and he moved toward the stairs. A strange weight settled in his stomach as he
climbed, knowing what he'd find at the top.
The figure on the bed looked to be sleeping,
but Darryl could detect no life signs. He sighed, tears coming to his eyes.
That was it then...an era had passed. He moved to shift the body into his arms,
and a single piece of paper fluttered onto the floor. He bent to pick it up.
I'm coming, love...
~finis~
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