Two hundred thirty years.
Eighty four thousand and five days.
Eighty four thousand and five days days since you passed away.
The American, now in his brown heavy bomber jacket laid the flowers on your tombstone.
Alfred vividly remember those images of the war, as if it just happened yesterday. He took out a wet towel, wiping the image of you on the tombstone, thoughts all about you and your strength.
Alfred sat on the dirt soil, shutting his eyes, leaning against your grave.
He could remember it all; clearly.
It was the year of 1775 in April. (Name) was a nurse that helped the soldiers amongst two others. You had been always willing to help anyone with any issue, and would sit with the men during the cold nights.
He still remembers how his baby blue eyes trailed to yours full of life, and you looked back at him - quickly turning away right after with a blush on your face.
Alfred knows that you were the one he wants to be with, and you're the only one who he'd want to be with anyway.
There was no one else that he wanted more.
Alfred had fought Arthur, his older brother - face to face.
The dirty blonde haired American could see you from the corner of his eyes, your tears almost close to shredding. But he couldn't lose focus. If he lost himself, then he would lose the war against Arthur for independence.
It was for his country, yet it was also for you.
Arthur tossed down his gun, sliding down as the clouds started to roll in - rain and thunder clashing onto the earth.
"I can't hurt you," he mumbled. "I can't hurt you. Just go..."
Alfred cheered with the rest of his army as the British regime retreated.
In the end, independence was gained. At the same moment, he gained you. You rushed into his arms as the rain continued to pour, his hair and Nantucket still defying gravity, standing as tall as ever. Alfred recalled the soft texture of your hair, how he stroked it peacefully to calm you.
He could swear that he felt your fast heartbeat as he placed his lips on yours, claiming one more territory.
It had been unfortunate, really. Both of you survived the war, but you didn't make it as far as he did. You couldn't stay with him the whole way through. You were a normal human that had a lifespan, but he wasn't.
He was... abnormal.
Alfred opened his ocean eyes again, looking at your photo once more - as if to reminisce the times together.
He could feel the tears rushing to his eyes, but he resisted to let them fall freely. The American placed his hand over his heart, clenching his bomber jacket.
Alfred had to see all those people go.
George Washington, John Jay, James Madison, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin.
All of the founding fathers of the country.
And now, you.
His heart began to burn, but he remained alive.
He would never die, he knew that.
Alfred's eyes trailed to you once more, standing up.
"I promise you that I'll do my best for my country and my people," he began.
"And for you."
The mature man started to walk off in the direction of the cemetery exit, smiling as he went.
"I love you, (Name)."