"Empty.
Complete emptiness.
That's all I feel.
What are you supposed to do when the whole other half of you is no longer here? Break down? Scream? Cry? Break something? Follow them..?
But I can't, because I am responsible for someone other than myself."
-
He stood there, in the doorway of their bedroom, a hand to his chest as he let out deep, wobbly breath to try and contain his emotions. He walked over to the vanity table, the deep circles under his eyes and the red puffiness clearly visible following the toughest day he'd ever experienced; he slumped on the chair and began brushing his fingers over the loose jewellery and pieces of makeup over the crisp white surface.
After what felt like hours he noticed something he had never seen before, reaching out he pulled a deep blue book that was tucked deep in the back, it was bound with a brown band. It was well used, well worn. His breathing became shallow as his now shaky fingers pulled at the band, his breath hitched in his throat as he turned to the first page, fighting back the tsunami of emotions that crashed into him. He knew who it belonged to.
A sorrow filled sob left his lips as he fought back the tears threatening to form in his eyes, letting them scan over the title written so beautifully on the page.
-
"September, 6th 2011.
The day we met".
YOU ARE READING
Written In A Journal.~
RomanceWhat happens when he finds a old worn journal tucked in the back of her vanity table? How did he not know she had this?
