15.

Yesterday was one of those difficult days ; when nightfall showed up I burst into tears without warning. Face buried in my pillow to stifle my sobs, I fell asleep from exhaustion. I hate those nights, when sleep is sparse and light. Those nights I feel so powerless against the pain of your memories that I curl up in my bed. I thought I’d stop missing you. But the bounds between illusion and reality is thinner than it appears to be.

Yesterday got a two months label. Two months without you. Two months without lunch at the restaurant. Two months without afternoon at the beach. Two months without a cigarette by the pool. Two months without a night in your arms. Two months without your eyes. Two months without your smile. Two months without your hands. Two months without your body. Two months without you.

Days are not alike, just as the minutes being spread accross.

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