To my parents.

I wasn't there when you died. It was just too painful for me. I couldn't stop it or help you.

You were hopeless romantics, and you would never have left each other, and yet the two of you created such dreadful anguish. You ended up dying from tragic circumstances that could have been avoided. You created the condition because of the pain you felt. The pain of loving each other.

It was unfair.

No one should feel so alone when they are loved. I sat on the beach and I cried with you. I prayed that you would return.

I looked up at the sunset and wondered if you felt the same. Did you feel betrayed? Did you feel helpless? Maybe God's sitting on some beach with the three of us. Will he give you the comfort we craved?