Psychic Resurrection (Descension of an Angel)

The hours have slid by in an almost dreamlike trance, shining drops of silver that are forever lost to me. Are you lost to me as well, angel? These questions, too forthright for me ever to ask, perhaps will never reach your ears. But I must spill these thoughts and emotions before they consume what is left of me, taint the purity I have fought so long to maintain. Two years of silence...they were not kind to me. Death stalked me, pain was a constant. But I healed myself these two years, finally believing my last angel had ascended, leaving me alone to fight my own battles. I had forgotten how affected I can be by words and emotion. I could not believe my eyes when I read the words, heard the pleas to respond. In retrospect, it was foolish. I could have kept my silence. Could have, should have. But it is too late. I responded, and was deluged by questions, overwhelmed by emotion. The usual, "I have been okay, fine really." It is not bloody ok! I have spent two entire years trying to move on. As always, I could detect no hint of sarcasm in his words, could not read him. I never could anyway. One of the reasons why we parted ways. He with his high morals and shining wings of purity, and I with my darkness and cunning. Do angels seek vengeance? I don't know. I'm no angel. Still, the question haunts me: why has he returned? Most would be glad, had they been in my shoes. Yet I sense something ominous about the return of the angel I stupidly fell for. Good and evil, angel and demon. We did not connect on the basest level, and yet...I am afraid I have twisted him, corrupted his soul somehow simply by loving him. Time still moves on relentlessly, but I find myself lost, suspended in the core of my own universe, drowning in the memories of what used to be. His very return has troubled me greatly, and that in itself is troubling...portent of things to come, perhaps? I cannot deny I am wary, yet hopeful. Perhaps he has heard my telepathic cries after all. I remain deeply troubled, and the arrival of morning brings with it a clotted feel to the air, as though the day ahead is fraught with danger. *sigh* He is no longer my angel, I know this well enough. His very return has caused an upheaval in the stillness I believe I have come to take for granted. I have to go do something to take my mind off the emotional shock.
So much we never got to say. Will these words finally see the light of day?