One Last Time

The door opened with you behind me. The silence between us had gone on long enough, but yet at this moment, speech is overrated.

From behind you held my hand, signalling me to take the lead. I reciprocated, squeezing your hand tightly reassuring you in return. I held your hands many times before. Yet, somehow this final time it was different. Your hand felt cold.

We reached home.

I sat on the couch. Releasing the grip of my tie I breathed a sigh. I heard your cries as you rushed upstairs.

I came up to you with the bottle in my hand. Your cries grew louder as you sat on the floor with your head on the bed.

As I sat next to you on the bed, you lifted your head up, tears flowing from your eyes. I opened the bottle and took it all in. You put your head on my thigh and I felt your warm tears.

I slipped into unconciousness and laid still on the bed. Your arms held on to my body as you opened another. You whispered in my ear, 'for one last time'...