Page 238 of Sage Haven
But those pleas tasted bitter in my mouth.
If there was any gods, I had cursed them for bringing Reich into my life only to rip him away when I finally learned how to live.
I cursed the stars for aligning so cruelly, for weaving our souls together, only to unravel them the moment I began to believe in something more.
He healed me but he also took a piece of me with him.
And I was left empty. Wandering. Searching for the one person who had made me feel alive and wondering if I would ever feel that same way again.
This loss was different than losing my father.
Losing my father left a gaping wound—raw and visible to the world but able to be filled with other things that gave me purpose.
But Reich?
He left something quieter. Crueler.
Because with him, there was anger.
A fire that burned so hot it could consume me from the inside out.
But it was his choice to leave that made it unbearable. That made it a special kind of devastation.
A quiet grief that was consuming and persistent with no understanding of the why.
One that didn’t scream or demand, but hollowed me out slowly, leaving me an echo of the person I used to be.
And after waiting too long, I made the decision to find him.
I left a note behind that day.
I pressed fragile hope onto paper, hands shaking as I wrote the words. The ones I didn’t think I’d ever have the courage to say to his face.
But pleading, nonetheless, that one day he’d find it.
That somehow, against all odds, fate would be kind enough to place it in his hands.
I didn’t know if it ever would.
If he’d ever see it. If he’d ever think of me again.
But I had to believe he might. That maybe—just maybe—he would read the words and remember us.
It was all I had left to offer.
My last tether to him. A whisper in the dark. A soft plea
In case my journey to find him, never led me home.
Reich—
You’ve always been my safe haven, even if only in my heart, where our playlist still echoes the way you loved me back together.
Thank you, always.
—Sage
REICH
