Working on a piece about grief and death... how uplifting right!?

OK here's my brainstorm.

Here I am and I guess I never really loved you -
Alone in our bed
- the sheets still warm with passion.
Unaware that tomorrow you'll wake
unmarried. I'll watch your tearless eyes
turn red - your body become a warm shell

But I'll never return - a whore.
My flesh gave way
to soul. In an instant
we were divorced
by eternity.

I want you to stay here
with me, unliving.

There's something missing. I want to write about how I want you to continue mourning me forever, because I'm not like Neruda. I can't understand the thought of you loving again without me. And how, I can leave you for death, but you can't leave me for another piece of flesh. And how, I guess that proves that I never really loved you, because I want you to suffer and mourn without me.