"Aurora..." I say in wonder. "You're you're ok!" I extend my arms out towards her. My tears of sorrow replaced with joy.
"It's, it's going to be ok," I almost whisper, whether to myself or to her I do not know. "I'm here now. We're here now, and everything is going to be ok." Very gently as if I was about to touch the most fragile object in the universe I bring my arms up to embrace her.
"I love you Aurora, I love you and I have always loved you. You mean the world to me, more than I could ever put into words." I can feel a warmth as deep within me as I could ever imagine, a fullness, a joy that is something that must be that of a once in a lifetime blessing.
I lower my head down with my arms and slowly close my arms around her sobbing, attempting to speak, but being filled with such ecstasy that my mind is muddied and I don't even care.
I begin to whisper flashbacks of things we'd done together and time feels as if it moves the slowest it is capable of being.. I tell her about how much we laughed the first time I ever shaved, on my 21st birthday when I tried to walk after one two many drinks, when I tried to make her a birthday card when I was 9 without her knowing it, and more things, most of them incomprehensible between my sobbing and sniffling and unsteady voice.
I gently still lower my arms until they are upon her.
"It's, it's going to be ok," I almost whisper, whether to myself or to her I do not know. "I'm here now. We're here now, and everything is going to be ok." Very gently as if I was about to touch the most fragile object in the universe I bring my arms up to embrace her.
"I love you Aurora, I love you and I have always loved you. You mean the world to me, more than I could ever put into words." I can feel a warmth as deep within me as I could ever imagine, a fullness, a joy that is something that must be that of a once in a lifetime blessing.
I lower my head down with my arms and slowly close my arms around her sobbing, attempting to speak, but being filled with such ecstasy that my mind is muddied and I don't even care.
I begin to whisper flashbacks of things we'd done together and time feels as if it moves the slowest it is capable of being.. I tell her about how much we laughed the first time I ever shaved, on my 21st birthday when I tried to walk after one two many drinks, when I tried to make her a birthday card when I was 9 without her knowing it, and more things, most of them incomprehensible between my sobbing and sniffling and unsteady voice.
I gently still lower my arms until they are upon her.