Seconds roll away – The feeling remains the same. It seems like just yesterday when he would hear “What is this?”. He strolled around the park – the running was getting to the point of self-infliction of pain, the ten pound weights seemed like it had a two hundred kilogram weight attached to it and definetly alcohol had not helped. Every single item he saw, felt, heard, touched and tasted – had her fragrance and voice. He felt miserable when he smiled, he felt cold when he could not cry and he was shattering himself slowly. The awakening moment of every single day that passed by, had the agony of depression – the ambience of an absent soul and the hopelessness of another second. Nights were linked to vikodin he thought, yet he could not summon the strenght to take it most of the time. He wanted to fight the hurt, the pain and then there was this unusual, ego-centric obsession with the whole process. He felt if love was a chemical reaction of ecstasy – then he had to embrace the cruel deterioation of his faint heart.
Nobody Knows It But Me!!!
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