How long has it been?
Your essence lingers, but you do not. The air is cold and bitter, and still, even after all this time, I wait in frigid silence for you to return to me.
Hallways once illuminated by your presence now lay shrouded in darkness, long-lost echoes of your voice almost audible amongst the eerie quiet.
Phantoms of our pasts seem to haunt these now-desolate corridors. They are reminders of the way things once were, of the serenity, the joy, the contentment that filled our hearts before your departure.
Oh, how different things had been before you left. Still, as if it had just been yesterday, I can remember the image of your silhouette, the warmth and daring of those eyes of yours as they looked into my own, holding promises of victory and glory and justice for our kingdom. Still, even now, I can remember the sound of your voice, the look on your face as you promised that you would one day return.
You promised. It’s because of that promise that I find myself still standing, waiting for you, even after all these years.
You promised. Maybe that’s why the faded sepia letters scattered about the dusty floor detailing your untimely demise, why the emptiness that seems to have swallowed our home whole, why the light-yet-aguishly-heavy box of ashes sitting on top the uncleaned counter top aren’t enough to convince me that you won’t be coming back.
They can’t be right. They can’t be. I know they aren’t. I’ll wait. Even if it takes all of eternity, I shall wait for you to return.
Because you promised.
You promised.
You promised me, so please, come back. I miss you. Please.
...How long has it been?