Twelve months. Today. Exactly. Half an hour to go.

You know everything I have to say. Everything I could possibly want to say. You know me better than I know myself.

I don't want another life. All I want is you, and you're not coming back. Not even if I beg and plead like some girls do when boyfriends dump them. But you didn't dump me. You loved me to the end.

You're dead.

You're not coming back. Ever.


So I won't either.


I'm going to Orchard Street again. I haven't walked down it since you died. But I'm going there now. And I'm not coming back.


I love you, Davey. I love you so, so much. It hurts, Davey. It hurts really bad. And I'm frightened. Can you take it away? Can you help me?




I love you, Davey.

The End

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