The cold was as intense as the silence. The silence that was broken only by  gentle mewling sobs. The cold wrapped itself around him like an icy finger, poking and prodding at his very soul. His eyes were fixed on the coffin. A white box that contained the essence of his life. White chosen to represent the pure goodness of his soul mate and to contrast against the sheer injustice that had bought them here.

 His eyes remained fixed on the white, imagining his love laying in that enclosed space, cold and alone, wrenched his heart until he could no longer remain dignified in his grief.

People had tried to comfort him with words such as “He isn’t here, his spirit is in heaven, in the coffin is an empty shell”.

He didn’t only love him for his spirit and mind. It was his body that he loved too. His body that made him cry tears of joy while they were making love. His body that soothed away sadness and pain in times of trouble. His body that held him close in the dark of the night and helped chase the demons away.

The incantation of the priest sounded distant to him as he focused on the coffin as it was lowered into the yawning chasm. He could feel his heart being tugged away from him as the coffin sunk lower and lower.

This was it. This was goodbye, the goodbye he hadn’t been able to say yet, that he couldn’t say. He fell to his knees at the edge of the grave and all that could be heard  in that cold wet cemetry was his screams. Scream he’d held in for the sake of dignity and out of respect for family and friends who were finding their own grief so very difficult.

He reached for the coffin, not wanting to lose the person that made his life worth living. Not wanting to accept that his reason for being had gone from him. Comforting hands held him back for fear that he would follow the coffin into the dark. All he could do was scream to God or whoever decided a persons fate, that it wasn’t fair, please don’t take him, I want him back, I want him back , I want him back......

They visited frequently, not wanting to desert their hyung. They visited him after each time they visited their leaders grave. Walking away from the grave each time was heartbreaking.....but not as hertbreaking as seeing their hyung in that stark white room, unseeing eyes glazed and dead, muttering quietly ‘I want him back, I want him back, I want him back.........’