“I used to long for death.” Violet rested her head on my shoulder.
“And now?” My arm around her shoulders tightened. The wind picked up, leaves blowing around the bench on which we sat.
“Honestly, Mark” she pulled herself closer into my embrace. “It’s not how I imagined it.”
There was a sadness and resignation in her voice, but with just a hint of hope. “Better? Worse?”
She pondered for a moment, watching as a lost kite skipped by us on the breeze. “Just different.”
We sat in silence as families, joggers and dog walkers went past us in a blur. It felt like that scene you get on television when everything other than the main character is in fast forward. Only this wasn’t T.V.; it was life… well, as close as I was going to get to it now.
“Do you ever wonder-” I began to ask.
“All the time,” she answered before I’d finished the question, somehow knowing what it would be. “But it does get easier.”
“Do you miss them?” I leaned my head lightly on hers.
“No.” She thought about it for a moment, before adding, “but I miss being with them. Does that make sense?”
“I don’t know,” I laughed. “Perhaps that’s a good thing.”
“I’m sorry I killed you, Mark.”
“You didn’t.” I breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly. I felt more at peace than I ever had before. “You brought me to life.”
“Sort of…” she whispered.
“Yeah.” I smiled. “Sort of.”