Every night I would dream of 'her' voice as she whispered words of affection to me. Each morning I would wake up, thinking over what had been said, trying to figure out what it had meant, what it could mean for the future.

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"Welcome home!" We had lived together at some point.

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"I missed you too, Leon!" She had missed me when I was gone.

I'd also missed her while we were apart.

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"You're everything to me, Leon." I was important to her once.

She must have been important to me too.

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""Hurry Leon! We don't want to miss the fireworks!" We went on dates?

Would she like to go on another with me someday?

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"Leon! Lets watch a movie together!" We watched movies, together.

She enjoyed spending time with me, watching movies together as a couple.

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"Who says I was going to make you stop?" A seductive whisper this time.

She wanted me to keep doing something.

Holding her? Kissing her?

Making love to her...

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"That sounds lovely, Honey. What else should we bring with us?" We had gone somewhere, together.

She called me Honey. She loved me.

She loves me still.

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A new dream, no voice this time. A fleeting image of a swollen belly and the remembered feeling of movement under my hand.

She had been pregnant. Was the child mine? It must have been.

She was pregnant with my child.

But how long ago had it been?

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I woke up, shaking from the dream-memory. No soft, sweet voice of my beloved. No warm kisses or tender touches of affection.

No, nothing that would have been so well received during the night.

"SHINA!!!" It had been my own voice this time, filled with such anguish that could only have come with the loss of my love.

Had she left me alone? Been stolen from me?

Had she died?

NO! She couldn't have! I could still feel the warmth of her love for me. Surely if she was dead I would be filled with the despair of her loss instead!

No... She was taken. I could feel it somewhere deep inside, she had been taken from me. And I would do whatever I had to, to find her and bring her back to me.

.

.

.

After all, she had said it herself... I was everything to her.

.

.

.

And she was everything to me.