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“I found someone,” Dylan continued, as he turned back to the statue.

“She is beautiful and smart and wonderful. Her name is Gina. She has two children, Brandon and Melissa. Tyla loves Melissa and I think she has a crush on Brandon. He’s a good kid.”

Dylan sniffed and took a deep breath.

“I love her, Donna. I really do, but I messed up. I messed up because I can’t let go of you. I messed up really bad and now she …”

Dylan wiped his eyes again.

“…she won’t even talk to me. She doesn't even want me near her.”

Dylan went silent again, staring at the face of the angel.

“She is carrying my baby, Donna.”

He waited, as if expecting a response from the angel.

There was none.

“I have another child and I won’t even be a part of his or her’s life.”

Dylan ran both of his hands through his shoulder length hair.

“I want to be a part of my child’s life, Donna. I want to be there when it says its first word. I want to see the first step; to, to, to blow out the candle at her’s or his’ first birthday. But I won’t.”

His voice had been getting louder, but suddenly it dropped, quiet and sad.

“I won't because I’m an asshole.”

Dylan took a step closer to the monument and for the first time he looked down at the ground that held his late wife.

“You always said I was an asshole. I know it was a joke between us; you being the bitch and me the asshole, but I am realizing now that you were right.

I am an asshole.”

Dylan went to his knees on the manicured plot.

“I will always love you, Donna. You will always have a place in my heart and my mind will never let go of the memories. But, I have to let go. I have to let you go or I will never be able to carry on. I will never allow anyone else to be a part of my life.

I know you told me to do just that, but that was when we were both healthy and it looked as though we would be together forever. Then you got sick and we, I, was so wrapped up in keeping you alive that we never got to have that talk.”

Dylan started crying again.

“I never got to say goodbye. You just didn't wake up. You … you … just went to sleep and that was that.”

Again Dylan dried his eyes.

“Fuck,” he said softly, a little ashamed at himself for his constant crying.

It took about five minutes before Dylan could speak again.

“I can’t keep going like this. I have to let go or Tyla will grow up and move on and I will be a lonely old man. I don't want to be a lonely old man. So, the time has come.”

Dylan stood up again, dried his eyes one last time and put the handkerchief back in his jacket pocket.

“I just wish that there was some way for you to let me know it is okay.”

A slight wind blew. 

Dylan looked up at the angel’s face.

Something hit his cheek. He put his hand up.

It felt like water.

Dylan looked up at the sky. There was not a cloud to be seen anywhere.

He looked back at the angel’s face.

“Thank you.”

He reached up and touched the angel.

“Good bye, Donna.”

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