Reborn

He lay between the two headstones, head rested on one, feet propped on top of another, and I knew I loved him. It was never a question of if it was too soon or if it was even right. I still knew that I loved him. People could argue and tell me that I had never been in love before that I never understood the true significance of the emotion, but it didn’t faze me. For, how could they tell me how I felt without seeing it from my point of view? How could they label my emotions so coldly when what I felt in myself was quite the opposite?

He picked up dead roses next to the grave, smelled them in a seemingly noncaring gesture, and carefully set them back down where they had been placed. The moon shown down on him and me, casting shadows dramatically over his upturned face. I was immersed in all of this light and the stone around us. All stone, except two humans, alone in a vast burial ground where the dead slept for eternity. I looked at him, wondering if he looked at me the same way. With the same true and pure emotion I felt for him, but I couldn’t tell. And I probably never would be able too. The thought terrified me so much that it actually pulled me up from the dark weeping willow tree I was sitting under and pulled me over to him. He looked at me the same way he had been doing that whole night. In a sort of nonchalant way of saying, Yes. I expect you to do this. Yes I want it. I sat next to him on dewy grass. The sign of inevitable sunrise. The sky was all I could see, but it didn’t matter. I was with him and he was with me and that seemed to be the only thing that really mattered. What a lugubrious place for a first kiss, right? Wrong, for it was the cold stone and the staring brick mausoleum that brought us even closer together. I was enshrouded in the shadows of the dead’s graves, and I was enraptured by the feeling of yielding lips against my own and the idea of us, alone in such a melancholy place that actually seemed bright somehow in the darkness as I lay next to him. I don’t know how long it lasted. How could one think of time, when one’s in perfect ecstacy? As I kissed him, hands in hands, bodies seemingly one, it felt like perfection incarnate. It felt as if I had been missing out my entire life, because of people’s stupid principles. Well, that wouldn’t happen any longer. The sun was rising, and he and I were still in each other’s arms, uncaring about what tomorrow would bring, for it seemed our futures were clear and we were destined to be together forever.

As the sun rose, high overhead, he and I walked out of the cemetery, hand-in-hand and through the iron gate that seemed to be the opening to a new life. Everything would be new, all reborn. Even the dead that we had lay above would be alive again. All was surreal as I glanced back to the weeping willows and dead roses and all of the memories of what had happened. I felt the melancholy come back to the place as we left and knew that all things end. Nothing is forever, but make the best of it until it ends.