Every year I come here to celebrate the day she left me.

Ten years ago, there was mostly grass in this field. We used to come here and watch the clouds pass by. I told them the truth; I had a wife that was terribly too kind for everyone, that she wanted to help the world so much she wished to be buried within the forest, so that her body would be a part of their growth. See? She had a flawlessly beautiful heart that I would do anything, anything, for her.
But I never quite understood why she left. They said she probably got bored, or she ran away with someone else and changed her identity because even after five years, not a single trace, not even a body, was found. The police gave up eventually.

I told them the truth.

But little did they know, that day she told me she wanted to die. She was more than perfect, but maybe depression does blind one's eyes. It broke my heart when she kept telling me her departure would make the world a better place.

I wanted to save her.

But how could I say no to that face?