A Passing Month

09 and 10,

The latter brought with it the death of the former, as well as all the harrows of modern life.

The death of kin, the loss of old love, and the inability to grieve a treasured friend bedevilled me in far too rapid a succession.

My month from the fabled red below began with jovial bliss, as I produced a fine ring cold with stones, a ring with which was regarded with exhalation as well as acceptance.

My proposal immediately proceeded her sudden passing, as she was beat bloody outside a brothel by a wretched man in a drunken stupor, a man whose miserable existence he felt compelled to extend onto my own.

As I mourned my tragedy in solitude and seclusion, leaving others to fend without me, my fathers aging battle with disease came to an abrupt and final end, imprinting the frozen kiss of death deeper into my increasingly piteous being.

My mother had accepted my former paramour as one of her own, for I was an only child, and she was now left in her singular grief to try and find some semblance of contentment. Eventually she succeeded in what she'd failed at earlier in life, as she snuffed out the pale-yellow flame of her being.

The sorrow in me was unparalleled, not by me alone but by anyone ever. As the people in my life left in such rapid succession, so too did my desire to continue. My only deterrent was the wet-nosed quadrupedal whose whole world I had encompassed, one who depended on me for sustenance as well as love.

As the tragic days of 09 came to its zenith with 10 looming in the near future, cautious optimism crept into my soul, a longing for better times, something I oft considered no longer possible. But when I entered my chambers after yet another long day, I was greeted with nothing as I walked through my surprisingly open entrance, no companion to comfort me or distract me from the past.

More emotions than the human heart is capable of holding welled inside me, attacking me all at once. I had nothing else to live for, no one else to live for, and the only thing I now looked forward to was the release of death. I tied the knot through dry thick tears and grabbed the stool, attaching this to that before I was ready to leave for good. It wasn't until the knot was complete that I remembered my neighbours offer to walk him whilst I was out, but by then it was too late. I finished this through slow tears accompanied with a tired, hopeful smile. It was over.

You can consider this my note.

Good-by.