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Hot times with steady girl leads to a fight.

It had been too long since I participated. My body remembered and was aching to join in. Each of them were invoking the God and Goddess, the blessed union. They wore elaborate masks in red and gold for anonymity. It helped free oneself from this world and to invite the divine.

A year ago today I wandered alone into the woods, distraught over the loss of my lover. Mask or no mask we would always find each other. All those years ago we would go off into the woods to be alone and far from the festival. It felt so much more intimate that way. He would take me under the tree with branches that seemed to reach down as if in an embrace. I would know my way there with my eyes closed. Now I closed them as I walked so I could envision him. I could feel his lips against my skin and his body pressed against mine.

I would be ready for him.

I stop in front of our tree. I sit down with my back against it. The rough bark against my back reminds me of the physical world and brings me back from my inner wanderings. The elder Druids have told me that those who have lost and grieved are closer to the other world because their soul cries out for it. That uncanny ability was not something I would have asked for.

Here in this spot it felt so much stronger. As if our time together had been etched into the tree, the grass and the earth beneath me. Perhaps they have memories too. The Druids believe so but what do they know? They are just old men who have never loved.

I recall the last time I was here. The darkness had consumed me and I needed to feel closer to him. I sat here all night trying so hard to make things right again. As if I could change things by mere force of will. But why not? If everyone was invoking the Goddess and her consort tonight then I could surely conjure up someone I love. Someone I know as well as I know myself. Is our love not strong enough to hold him here? To defy the laws of nature? If you believed the Druids than nature itself can be bent to your will.

The tears started flowing freely by first light for I knew I was not strong enough for such a task. Seeing and hearing things from the other world was not enough. They were just shadows of what once was, nothing of substance. I wish I could remember the voice clearly that spoke softly into my ear in that moment. I know without a doubt it was his but the passing year has dulled it 's clarity. Only three words he spoke and I held on to them in the darkness every night since.

"I am here." He whispered.

The sun had dried my tears and the Beltaine festival was over. Too late he had made his presence known and I walked home alone that morning. I had vowed to return this year knowing he would be waiting for me.

Now I fight the urge to flee afraid and hopeful of what this night could bring. So many words were left unspoken between us. Such is the way when one dies so young. Those left behind unsure if they knew how we really felt. We told one another with our hands, lips and bodies so often .

I heard a branch snap and looked up into the moonlight. There he was standing just as I remembered him. Strong and youthful with a hint of humor in his blue eyes. I would not cry I scolded myself as I felt the emotions rise up in me. Not in this moment. It was too important and I wouldn't waste it.

He reached his hand out to me and smiled.

I remembered how he would do anything to amuse others. He loved to make you laugh even after returning from battle as if none of that could touch him. How someone so strong could be so tender at other times. He was sex, laughter, and affection. That was what he meant to me. How can one survive such a loss after knowing that?

As if he knew my thoughts had turned dark again he pulled me up into his arms.

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