I saw his life through his seven sets of eyes. Every pair of his eyes were beautiful. I loved staring into them for hours, and in the night when they were closed he was even more beautiful. He was my dearest Anthony, and I loved him. It's hilarious the way I loved him. We were certainly never meant to be, but his eyes begged otherwise. He proved to be my greatest temptation, and meant more to me then I ever thought he could.

His eyes are a lot more sunken in now, but his cheeks are still gorgeous and rosey, at least for now. They always look like they're kissed by the early morning sunrise. I could go on for hours about his beauty, but that's unnecessary flattery. I think there's more important things to tell about my Anthony.

I know every detail.

Every breath was like the wind against my cheeks. I would die for him to whisper into my ear once more. And I would die for another moment spent at parties or on top of lonely roof tops, because in the end, he is the only reason my life is worth living. He was a loaded gun, but death was no challenge to immortality. I caressed the cheek of a man who had died long ago. What was I thinking? I lost my sense of self the moment I set foot on this earth. Doing it all for him sounded worthy.

I can blame my friends for it, and I can blame him for it. Usually things like that always come back to me though. My sins lead me to stand in the mirror and look into the mirror for hours. Secretly I'm afraid of who I've became. I'm more human than ever, but there's a certain thrill with that. No matter how high I raise my arms and scream to the sky there's no more room in Heaven for this angel. It's all because I loved Anthony.

Now I can't help but look down and yearn for what we once had. His now frail hands used to be so strong and all I wish for is to be held again. I've done my dealings with death plenty of times before, but never like this. I'm not ready to let go of my grace.