Changing words

I grab her roughly by the shoulders. I try to make her stop. I wish I could change everything she is saying along with everything she has said. Each and every word that escapes through her lips makes me wince. Can it be true? Oh god no.

She is speaking through sobs now, and it is hard to understand. Sometimes if I get too close I get a splatter of spit and tears. Her hot breath burns into my ears-forcing me to hear what she has to say. The words burn into me like a hot iron on wet flesh. It is true? It is over. Still I hang on. I shake her. I move her. I yell over her sobs, nothing changes. She still speaks. She insists on killing me. The words start to make sense and the meaning becomes clear. She is describing his death to me frantically and mournfully. It can not be. I just saw him. I just kissed his sweet lips. I told him I loved him.

I hold her hand at the funeral. I hold back tears. I am more confused than mad. I want revenge on an invisible opponent. I want to kill somebody that does not exist.

On this day I bury him- my friend, my foe, myself. I hold her and she cries. I look away everytime she turns her head. I drop a tear of remeberance and turn to leave.