The sun beat down on the lush green grass of the backyard as the older woman, dressed all in black, knelt in front of the grave. Her tears fell like raindrops onto the freshly turned earth, and she muttered to herself, "Why did you have to be so pure, so beautiful? It's my fault you're gone."
She stood up, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She looked at the grave and said, "I'll never get to see your youthful spirit again. But I'll be with you forever, in my own way."
She walked over to the shovel and picked it up. She began digging, muttering, "I'm sorry, love. I'll make it right."
After a while, she unearthed the urn. She picked it up and cradled it in her arms. "I'll never forget the night I took your innocence. I'll never forget how you looked at me with those wide, innocent eyes."
She opened the urn and looked at the ashes inside. "I'll always love you, no matter what."
She unzipped her pants and squatted over the urn. She smiled as she began to pee into it. "This is my way of saying I'll always be with you."
She finished and stood up. "I'm sorry, love. I'll make it right."
She looked at the urn one last time before putting it back in the grave. "I'll never forget you, my beautiful boy."
She started filling the grave back in. "I'll always love you, even if it's in a way that no one else understands."
She finished and stood up. "I'll always be with you, my love."
She walked back to the house, a small smile on her face. "I'll always love you, no matter what."
She stopped and looked back at the grave. "I'm sorry, love. I'll make it right."
She turned and walked back into the house, leaving the grave behind.
The grave was left alone, the urn inside it filled with the older woman's love.
As she walked back into the house, she couldn't help but feel a sense of peace. She knew that what she had just done was strange, even perverted, but it was her way of keeping her lover close.
She heard a voice behind her, "What the hell was that?"
She turned to see her best friend, standing in the doorway with a look of shock on her face.
"It's my way of saying I'll always be with him," she said, with a small smile.
Her friend raised an eyebrow. "That's...peculiar."
The older woman laughed. "Yes, I suppose it is. But it's my way of loving him, even in death."
Her friend shook her head. "I don't think I'll ever understand you."
The older woman shrugged. "That's okay. I don't need you to understand. I just need you to accept me for who I am."
Her friend smiled. "I'll always accept you, no matter how peculiar you are."
The older woman smiled back. "I know. And that's why you're my best friend."
They walked back into the house, the grave and the urn forgotten, but the love and memories living on in the older woman's heart.
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