~Tears shed for another
person is not a sign of weakness.
They are a sign of a pure heart.
-Jose N. Harris

The bond he had shared with her had been like a bridge out of his fortressed mind. It allowed him to set foot outside its protective compound and explore the sun-warmed grass on the other side. Now she had gone and the bridge had been severed. Now, no matter how many people surrounded him, he was alone.

"Vincent!" Her voice rang in my head and I was shaken out of my deep slumber. "Laura" I whispered, opening my eyes, coming face to face with Dorothy. I only asked for one thing, and that was to be left alone.

"Get out Dorothy!" My voice roared at her. She jerked apart from me, her hands falling at her side, looking at me with pity.

It was with bittersweet joy that I watched my dreams get shattered. It was done, it was over. But I had lost a part of myself that I'll never regain. Memories began to flood me, washing over my heart, as I saw images of joy, sadness, patience, and love fly before my eyes. The emotions they awake, the remembrance of joyful times long ago, make me feel hollow inside.

I wouldn't let the maid change the sheets on my bed because they still smelled like her because dreaming was all I could do with her laying beside me. I locked her room so I could trap the scent. I couldn't draw myself to go inside. There were so many memories already in this room that had torn me apart by just laying on the bed.

But the best ones were in her room, where we spent our first night sleeping together, the first night where I had her in my arms. She made every day mean something. And now... I am lost... And nothing means anything anymore.

Not a day goes by that I don't miss that part of me I lost. Not a minute flies past without my heart crying softly for what was. I miss her. I do. It will never be the same joy, my smile will never hold the same completeness. My heart ached. I can't tell you how loud my heart moans with every beat, how every day I try to move on, but my memories refuse to let me forget.

"You need to move on and forget her. She's never coming back, she's dead." I've failed. I failed to let her stay. I lost her. "Get out, get out!!" I snapped, causing her to jerk off her feet, flying towards the door with a loud bang.

"Why did you leave me and go?" I shouted, tears pricking my eyes. They keep telling me to forget, to let her go. How? It's all part of me. I can't let go of the pain without losing something sacred. The good memories keep me going and the bad ones make me want to curl under the duvet and never come out again, but they are locked tight together like two sides of the same coin.

Call me weak for crying, but I had made a mistake that I wish I hadn't made. I only wanted her and her alone.

I lay in my bed, eyes closed. My chest heaved with a quiet sob, and tears welled up behind my eyelids, slipping down my cheeks without resistance. Another sob wracked me, followed by a thin wail. I curled on my side and wept, my shoulders heaving.

I died some time ago. I didn't mean to. My heart still beats, though only as a cold pump, working despite my spark of life being extinguished. My world is icy. Every day is overcast no matter what the weather is outside.

"Laura, please come back home. You promised you'd come back home to me to stay." I cried while I felt my arms wrapped around me.

"Please bring her back to me." I've never been so weak. She was right. All this money and power wouldn't help the hole that was in my heart.

My body longed for her touch, for the feeling that I'd get when she was near me.

"How could I be so stupid to let her go?"

"You had no choice Vincent, you did everything to protect her."

"No!!" I snapped, the tears still flowing down my cheeks. "I did nothing, I've failed as a husband, I've failed to protect my wife and I can't even accept the fact that she's six feet under, nor can I let her go."

"I can't even say goodbye." A year ago, I wouldn't have been able to understand why someone would want to cry.

"She's proud of you. She said so herself. And she knows you deserve a chance to be happy, even if it means that you have to push her away.

But now, alone in the darkness, it's easy. It could be a quick-relief or a painstakingly long process of confusion, denial, embarrassment, and anger. Either way, in the end, I feel drained and alone.

When I cried, there was a rawness to it, like the pain was still an open wound. I would clasp onto something for support, anything, a table or the back of a chair, and then my whole body would shake.

The sobs were stifled at first as I attempted to hide his grief, then overcome by the wave of my emotions, I would break down entirely, all the defenses washed away in those salty tears.

The blame was all on him. He put the blame all on him. But truth be told, Laura would never want Vincent to be like this, weak, defenseless.

He's known to be a man with power. Nothing could possibly tear down his walls. He built them so high and so strong that nothing could tear them down.

My eyes dripped with tears. "My walls, the walls that hold me up, make me strong, just collapsed. Moment by moment, they fall. "

After crying my eyes out, I looked down at my phone to see a few missed calls from an unknown number.

I held the phone against my ear as it rang three times before it was answered.

"Hello, is this Mrs. Johnson?" The voice spoke from the phone. The woman's voice sounds elegant and welcoming.

I cleared my throat. "No, but this is her husband speaking. How may I help you?"

"This is Dr. Ophelia. Your wife did a check-up here a year ago for confirmation that she was pregnant, but I'm sure that the baby's birthday will be around this time, so I would like to congratulate you when it comes. " My mind was unsteady. I was pregnant. Is this some kind of sick fucking joke? And a happy birthday?

"Thank you," I said, quickly hanging up the phone. My princess was pregnant. That couldn't be she was dead. It was confirmed that she died, or maybe she didn't.

My phone rang again and I became angry. I sighed looking at the caller ID. It was Mason.

Mason hasn't spoken to me for such a long time, so why now?

"What?" I roared at him.

"Dude, this is no fucking joke. Look at your phone." He shouts.

Letting out a yawn, I looked at the image, blinking to see if I was actually seeing things.

She resembled Laura alright, but she had blue eyes that looked like mine and black hair. It couldn't be that she had a child without me knowing. I pushed her away. She could be alive but didn't dare to come back here. So many thoughts ran through my head but

Signing the papers brought a lot of destruction from both sides. My angel died because I let her die, but what she didn't do was sign those papers.

But the thoughts of her being confirmed dead were still in my head. She could've been alive and if she was, she wouldn't stay away from me.