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them. I felt confused. I killed teenagers holding automatic weapons to ensure the right of our teens back home to play with their paintball guns. I killed so we could continue to be a free country. I killed to stay alive. I killed to go back home. I killed to defend the children playing on the dusty fields of that village. But I killed.
    I managed to save the son of the village’s healer. And me, a killer, was hailed as hero. They claimed that by saving the boy, I had saved their seed. See, the thirteen-year-old boy was being groomed to become the next generation’s healer.
    Nothing made me feel better though. All I wanted was to lose myself into your love, Mel. In a dark moment, I prayed one of my stupidest prayers. I asked God to give me wings, Mel, so I could fly to you. Funny thing though, because it was not a figurative prayer. I meant it.
    I swear to you, Mel, when I got up from that prayer, the healer of the village approached me and gave me a coin. I shoved it back into his hands and told him I could not accept his money. We argued back and forth until I examined the coin. It had wings, Mel, just like my prayer. Now some might think of it as a coincidence, but I know better.
    The healer explained to me the myth behind the ancient coin. It was known to them that more than a thousand years before our time, a princess warrior killed the man she loved to save her people. Out of her personal sacrifice, her people strived but her soul perished. Her people, knowing her suffering, put all their healing love into a piece of gold. They designed it with wings, claiming that their love would set her soul free from the suffering.
    This coin, Mel, has since been passed from one broken soul to another. When one accepts it, he or she commits to be the holder of the healing power for as long as there is a need. According to the legend, some have kept it for as little as a day while others kept it for as long as a lifetime. The point is to pass it along when you no longer require its help or when you find someone who needs it more than you.
    Last night when we made love, Mel, I swear to you, I heard a voice in my heart saying that you would have more of me than I could understand. I can’t really describe it, but it seems like part of me left my body to stay with yours. Dorky and cheesy, but that’s what I felt, Mel.
    But, I still have this overwhelming need of knowing that you are not suffering for me. So, here is the coin that I’ve carried for the last year. I don’t want you to suffer, sweetheart. I love you more than I love my own life. Take this coin and remember that we have wings on our hearts that take us beyond the barrier of time or place.
    I love you, my dear, please always remember that.
    I’ll come back to you soon. Until then, fly, my dear, fly to my arms, whenever you miss me. I’ll always be with my arms open, waiting for you to come to me.
    Yours forever,
    T.
     
    Each time I read this letter, my heart breaks into a million little pieces. I wish I knew how to put my heart back together into one piece. I feel like that would require me to forget Tim, to let go of him completely. I can’t bear to lose my memories when that’s all I have left of him to hold on to.
    I glance at the picture of him beside my bed. “I gave it away, Tim. He needs it more than I do. I have to be truthful to the legend. But I hurt still, my love. I hurt so much that I wonder how much longer I can go on. My wings, Tim, I feel like they’re clipped and broken. I can’t fly to you. I’m forgetting the way you slightly tilted your head when you looked at me, the way you held my hips right before you moved inside me.
    Our daughter, Tim. She suffers from not knowing you. I wanted you to be here so bad, especially today. It’s Ella’s first day of kindergarten. We all pretend you are here and, for a while, it worked. But now, she wants more of you and I can’t give it to her, Tim.”
    The blare of my alarm clock brings me out of the