Chapter 23
Dear Butterfly,
My heart aches for you. Every hour, every minute, every second.
When I close my eyes, I see you, I hear you, I smell you, for you have been forever imprinted on my soul.
But I can’t see you.
I can’t hear you.
I can’t smell you.
I can’t touch you.
The absence of you is felt in every inch of this house, in the vacancy of my soul. In the death that now resides in my body, the nothingness that has become as much of me as my beating heart, in the hole that materialized the moment you left.
The moment I failed you.
The moment I failed myself.
The moment I died inside.
The moment my life, whatever it is now, became defined by grief, regret, and guilt.
I wish it had been me instead of you. Oh God, how I wish that.
I was not ready to say good-bye, in the same way that I was not ready to say everything I should have.
I will never forgive myself. Not now, not ever. Instead, I am now wholly prepared for my death, my fate, the end of whatever became of me the moment you forever left my life.
I welcome death because then I know the pain will be over.
I miss you more than words can say.
I hurt more than a million swords.
I love you, dear butterfly.
My butterfly.
I love you,
I love you,
I love you.
Yours forever,
Astor