It’s difficult for me to imagine the rest of my life without you. But I suppose I don’t have to imagine it... I just have to live it
The last time I felt alive – I was looking into your eyes. Breathing your air…. touching your skin… … Saying goodbye…. The last time I felt alive…. I was dying.
I have poured my heart out …. And now I am empty.
The only place I ever felt at home was with you. There isn’t a place for me anywhere anymore… I’ve been evicted.
No matter now. Don't even meet now. Block also now. I have burnt all the pictures now. I have suppressed her memories in my heart. Now I can't even cry after remembering her. Almost nothing left between us now. But what kind of love is this ? It doesn't take the name of ending.....
The old Amy, the girl of the big laugh and the easy ways, literally shed herself, a pile of skin and soul on the floor, and stepped this new, brittle, bitter Amy ... a razor-wire knot daring me to unloop her, and I was not up to the job with my thick, numb, nervous fingers. Country fingers. Flyover fingers untrained in the intricate, dangerous work of 'solving Amy'. When I'd hold up the bloody stumps, she'd sigh and turn to her secret mental notebooks on which she tallied all my deficiencies, forever noting disappointments, frailties, shortcomings.