My shirt smells like your house, your laundry- you. I washed all of my clothes with an excess amount of your laundry detergent before we flew home to America in preparation for not seeing you much, not being able to cuddle you every night. I thought having your smell envelope me every night might make the distance after a month of no distance more bearable.
Butnow I wish I hadn't. Because it's distracting and instead of tearing my heartclean in half, it's slowly pulling it apart, each muscle fiber clingingdesperately to its partner before being agonizingly sheared in half.
YOU ARE READING
The Second Chapter
RomanceMy love, Six months ago, sitting in your bed in England, wrapped up in your arms so much so that I couldn't tell where I ended and you began, you gave me "The First Chapter"- a book you had personally authored, had bound into hard cover and legally...
