Heartbreak

A tear rolled down my cheek, without noise. I left it there, marking my face with pain. I felt a hand on my back, but I paid no attention to whose it was. If it wasn't his, it wasn't important.
"Today we come to mourn the loss of Mr. Devan Williams, a respected citizen of Pennsylvania. Mr. Williams was only 16 and death took him too early. He was an important member of his high school music program, and..." I stopped, listening as another tear dropped from my marble face and onto my lap. My father would be upset that it stained my skirt with black mascara, but I didn't care. My poor Devan was dead, and there was nothing I wanted more to than to join him.
After all, what was life without love? How am I expected to enjoy the sunrise and walks along the beach without a person to share it with? Dinner dates, making love until the sun comes up...all of it meant nothing now. Love makes life a thousand times better than without. Life is not worth the excruciating pain without love.
This in mind, I quietly slipped out of the funeral, pretending it was too hard, which wasn't a lie. How am I expected to watch my love being lowered into the ground, his body cold and lifeless? His lips no longer that wonderful strawberry red but a pale peach. The scar on his hand not bright and lifelike but camouflaged in roses.
I closed my eyes and wandered away from the place that made my skin crawl and my heart burn. I ended up at the entrance of the cemetery. I settled on a well kept park bench, as not to ruin my skirt further. I pulled out my purse and fished out an envelope that my mother had put in there this morning. From the feel of it, I assumed they were pictures. Preparing myself, I ripped open the end and peered inside. With a gasp, I dropped the package.
My heart began to beat quicker than I had ever experienced before. My hands trembled, my eyes focused on the ripped paper on the wet grass. I inhaled, taking the cold oxygen into my lungs, then shakily I exhaled. My ring finger burned, where I had removed the promise ring that Devan had given me.
After composing myself, I picked it back up and took a deep breath. I pulled out the first picture. It was Devan and I at our first homecoming, a little under a year ago. It was ultimately the perfect picture. Devan had just made a joke, and I had burst into hysterical laughter. Meanwhile, Devan looked at me with the most loving gaze anybody had ever seen. It had always been my favorite picture of us. He was so alive, so full of a love that only teenagers would understand.
The rest of the envelope was pretty much the same. Pictures that made my heart shatter into a million pieces. But they were so beautiful, so us. We were such a unique couple, but at the same time so typical. We went on dinner dates, walks in the park, ice cream after mini golfing. It was the little things that counted, and that was all that mattered.
We were so in love. All teenagers say that at some point, but this wasn't just passion and lust, although those were included in the package. This was love; the kind that lasted forever. There wasn't a moment in our relationship where I doubted our love, even when we were in the worst of fights. We would scream at each other, but it would always end in love. Whether it ended in talking it out with ice cream and a cheesy movie or making love so hard the bed broke, we always worked it out.
After I finished looking through the envelope, I took out my iPhone. Devan had always made fun of me for owning one and told me that I was being too "mainstream." He had a "flip phone." The little things that didn't seem important at the time suddenly meant the world.
My background was, of course, a picture of Devan and me. It was us singing together at one of the school performances. Devan had convinced me to try out for the school musical, Phantom of the Opera. I auditioned, and surprisingly enough for me, had landed the main character, Christine. Devan had gotten the Phantom, which wasn't at all a surprise. Devan was a brilliant actor, and an even better singer. Our first performance was definitely our best, and it was absolutely amazing, despite my tangible stage fright.
I opened the photo album on my phone and clicked onto videos. The first one that came up was also of Devan. He was singing to me at my birthday party, a few months ago. One of his favorite musicals had always been Pippin, and his favorite song had been "With You." My mother had only recorded part of it, but it was the only part that I had cared for.
Devan had brought me up to the stage and sat me on a chair. As he continued into the bridge of the song, a tear had begun to roll down my cheek with love, and Devan had wiped it away, singing:
And oh...
My dearest love
If you will take my love
Then all my dreams have truly begun.

Just like in the video, tears streamed down my face and landed on the bench beside me. I no longer cared that I was staining everything around me with my sorrow. How could I go on without my beloved Devan? He was my everything, I was nothing without him.
My mind jumbled, I rested my hands on my knees and tried to take a deep breath. My hands were shaking quite steadily at this point, and shades of gray and black were smeared around my eyes. I simply felt like nothing even mattered; nobody even mattered.
I glanced behind me to the funeral, which appeared to be wrapping up quickly. I saw my mother glimpse across at me, and raise her eyebrows in question. I shook my head at her, signaling with what I hoped to be a message saying that I wasn’t going back in. It was over now, with hearts broken and lives shattered.
With damaged energy motivating me, I promptly gathered my things into my small purse and stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in my skirt. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for what I knew I would have to do. Devan was my only purpose of living, and now that he was gone, there was nothing tying me to this place.
I yanked off my black heels, tossing them into bushes to my left. Then I walked with a purpose, strolling out of the cemetery and coming up the main road. Tuning my mothers voice in my head out, I stuck out my thumb. When a car pulled up, I smiled. My fate no longer in my hands, I got into the vehicle.