It had been two whole years but still he remembered. He remembered the way messy hair fell in his face. The way his glasses perched on his nose and caught rays of sunshine in the summertime. He remembered the way his body squirmed, flushing with unbridled passion. Taut in ways that would make them both scream all night long. His face had a way of displaying emotion that left no fear as to what everything meant to him.

Every night he wished only the good memories would seep in and out of his mind. It was at night, horror of the ending came to him. Silently first, dodging at the very edges in a haunting illusion of blood and pain. Soon enough, the horror grew until nothing else existed.

He would remember the battle, blood splashed on every surface, bodies strewed about the floor. Screaming echoed in a rhythm with cries of despair. Light flashed, the sight of green, becoming the very symbol of the war. The color had come for him but had melted into the body of another. His lover. The glassy unseeing eyes haunted him most of all.

It was time, finally. He had to move on and leave this all behind. This place, his face. He would always remember, but life was passing him by. He had died to give him the light and it was now the moment to step into it.