Work Text:
The end is the beginning. The beginning is the end. Everything seemed to happen just like it did about thirty-three years ago... before you were even born. It's official. The grandparents who raised you as if you were their son and convinced you as much... they're gone. Just the other day, your grandmother took her last breath as she succumbed to lung cancer. You knew it was only a matter of time, but it still hits you like a train. Your whole family exists now only in the past tense.
They're not the only ones, though. Your girlfriend only exists in the past tense as well. She happened to be carrying your child at that time, but it didn't seem meant to be. A stray bullet struck her in the neck, and she bled out before anything could be done. It was a miracle that your daughter actually managed to be born at all. Indeed, it's a miracle that you're of sound mind and body. Despite everything that has happened, you still stand. After all, life goes on.
The end is the beginning. The beginning is the end. You're in the same situation your mother was in thirty-three years ago: talking to the grave of a significant other, a soul whose untimely death robbed you of a future together. On the first day of spring, you drive up to the cemetery your parents and girlfriend are buried in, your daughter dozing off in the back seat of your car. Since you live quite a ways away from the cemetery, it takes a while before you can arrive at your destination. You walk upon emerald grass newly wet from the rain, always bracing yourself for a potential slip. You bring your daughter with you just to make sure you're not alone when you talk to her mother.
You give with a melancholy smile upon arriving at your girlfriend's grave. You squat down just enough that your daughter can reach out and touch her mother's headstone. You still smile at this, but you can only do that for a little while longer. You have to show her that it's okay to express your emotions openly. If she has any chance of surviving out there in the world, it won't do you any good to run and hide. She needs time to grasp that her mother was real and that she loved her, even if she never got to meet her. She has to understand to grieve over someone who exists now only as a past tense.
The end is the beginning. The beginning is the end. Your daughter is all that's left of your girlfriend. Your daughter is the only family you have.
"You miss her, sweetie?" you ask your daughter. You wait a few seconds before responding, "Yeah, me too."
Just as a reminder of how much your girlfriend absolutely meant to you, you named your daughter after her. You have to finish what your girlfriend started. You have to keep your daughter safe. You have to make sure she never suffers the same fate that her mother did. It's what your girlfriend would've wanted.