I created the missed connection with my own hands. I had her, close to me. To my heart, to my soul, to my mind, to my skin. She offered the world to me. Everything she had and everything she would ever have. She was ready to leave everyone behind. I doubted my love. I doubted everything. Our past, our present, our future.
I could not take it anymore. I did not want her. Persuaded myself that I did not love her. That I knew better.
I still smell her in the mornings. I still think of her every single day. I feel so full that my words and my sentences are empty and meaningless. I bit my pride and sent a single sentence wrapped in the most beautiful roses.
Nights are lonely. Days are senseless. When will my heart heal? When will it become hard enough for the sharpest knife to fall lifeless?
I pray for my sins to be forgiven. I can’t love, I can’t touch.
I know that I am not the only one and that these sentences are... They sound silent and only her voice can break the night.
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