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Her Arms
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Short Stories A Short Story
A beloved has died. If you do not know the feeling, I smile for you. For I know and have been in that dark hole. I saw him laying there. His eyes still open. Looking at space.
I can't explain. I'm trying... I'm trying to explain it in words.
I can't.
What I can describe is a memory. A memory that may be lost to a friend, but has not been lost to me. I remember the agony of family. What was I to do? How could I protect them? How could I protect while my world was crashing down as well? A face recognizable from so many miles. A hug from a friend. Now that I can describe. To have them feel your arms of despair. Hoping their arms could relieve the pain. It will, for a while. Always remember, no matter what happens. No matter if you had a friend and is now lost, you are still friends. That friendship cannot be erased because your memory is binded to them by that one simple memory. To me, that simple memory is with me for a lifetime. For people that have lost a friend. Do not despair. You always have a friend. We are all friends. Despite pride and hate. We are all in this together. If we did not have each other, I guess my arms would still be in despair. However, they are not.
They are not.
This is to a friend who is "lost". I'm always searching for you, even though your search in me is done. Know this. I remember things like these and don't forget.
