The coffee table was far too elegant for your home, dear. Well, what I'm trying to say is that it's been misplaced; it didn't belong here. Your living room seemed a lot emptier too, as though every piece of furniture had been seized from its own home. I felt empty. I hadn't eaten breakfast but the desolation was okay, my dear. It felt somewhat good to not be a burden anymore. The food I ate could have been donated to far less developed countries, where the empty feeling was considered unhealthy - it was known as starvation. Starving wasn't a problem to me, my dear. Neither was it to you but we were used to feeling empty.
Empty.
My eyes met yours after what seemed like years. The past few years were a blessing, my dear. To have spent all this time with you, how could I feel empty? Every memory cut deep into my heart, the stitches engraved there forever. Before you, dear, I had no heart. But now, now I have something so much more than just a life-line.
I have us.
YOU ARE READING
Mosquito Bites
General FictionWhere two friends go on daily adventures, living life and conquering every little problem in their tiny worlds. A boy and a girl. Two souls intertwined in what lasts for just a few moments. Always alone but never on their own. Welcome to their bubb...
