He was there, just beyond my reach. But I could not go to him. It was like being separated by the Veil. How ghastly to think of walls between the living and the dead.
I was not dead yet, I knew it. But I was fading fast. All was dark. I saw, heard, smelt, felt nothing - save for whispers of Tony's voice, which caressed me like softest satin yet melted away faster than a wisp of smoke.
It was so agonising to be so near yet so far from the one I loved. And I abhorred the way our souls weren't touching: the way they should be.
I had thought that when he came, all would be set straight.
I had envisaged running into his arms and becoming his, all his, once again - with barely any time passing between the physical contact of our bodies and the re-merging of our souls.
How desperately wrong I had been.
'Tony,' I tried to call out, with my wretched, weakened mind.
But he could not hear. He could not hear my voice. My voice was for him - the fact had been ascertained when we had tied our souls. The fact that he could not sense me was a heinous crime.
It seemed to me that the universe was wrong. Some fatal flaw had occured during its creation and the bad energy radiating outwards from the source of it pervaded every millimetre of space and every second of time.
'TONY,' I screamed.
But I was trapped. Away from Tony.