I'm searching for you because I think that there's something that you can teach me, still. Something that I would not have been able to understand when it happened given my youth; I was so confused about everything. I couldn't comprehend what was happening or why or how. I just knew you were gone and I wasn't even sure what that meant - I was only 10. It wasn't fair to me.
I need some answers, that's all. Just a few answers and I'm searching and I'm not finding anything except a measly little paragraph that sums up a small portion of your life. Is that all we are, a sad excuse for an obituary that uses up ink that month in the local newspaper, only to fade away until finally you are a tiny paragraph of text on an unimportant website? Is that all you are? Because that's all that I can find.

There are few things in life that I am absolutely certain of.
I am so confused about who I am, what I'm about, and what I should like.

D/Hr

      She waited anxiously in the restricted section of the library, resting against a rather dusty shelf.  A black-widow spider weaved its web from one book to the next. As she followed the silk with her eyes, she wondered deeply why she was even here. Anticipation was more than she could bare; of being found by someone else or of never being met. Yet wait she did, sighing heavily as another minute passed and another section of the widow’s web was completed. She often thought in a dream-like state, and here she was like this fly caught in the sticky strings, awaiting the spider to kill her. Or perhaps waiting for the spider to poison her, numb her before inevitable death.

      She looked at her wristwatch: 1:15 AM. She allowed herself to close her heavy lids and slowly slipped into sleep. She was far too unconscious to notice the boy peeking out from behind a shelf a few rows down.

      She was beautiful just like that; resting instead of contradicting him. If she was so beautiful well then why was he leering at her? Why would he not approach? After all, wasn’t she waiting for him?

      A few white-blonde strands escaped his usual tailored manor and hung in his eyes. This was an accurate description in reference to his life, how it was all suddenly spinning out of control. Why was he here again? Why did they keep doing this? He only felt worse when he returned to his bed, never knowing if she was genuine, if even he, himself, was genuine. It was a mystery to him and perhaps that was what was so appealing. Yet still he watched her sleep, dreaming of anything but he.

It was a perilous descent, this dive, a foolish decision to behold. Nothing could capture you or pull us up or pull us above this flood of despair you call a sea. If all we were to do was learn to swim, then why are we drowning? Raven, you're out of your element. All I can see is this black water and taste its salt and smell the fear in the fearless. You were meant to be my savior from this very sting of loneliness. Perhaps if you stretched your wings from time to time and ventured past familiarity, you wouldn't be dying.
Dying.

We're dying.