Willow
- Reads 203
- Votes 3
- Parts 11
I don't quite know how I could've managed to stay awake that night around three almost four in the morning.
In pain, thinking that I had nothing left in the world for me. All what was left, everything was finally written. I gazed at my final sunset as I reached in the bag and grabbed the gun. No hope no second thoughts. It was just the barrel and I. Pain with no remorse. Death with no tragedy. Sleep with no harmony. I closed my eyes and let sounds take action along with doing the rest for me.
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#459
miscarriage
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I am wide awake. At 3 am, and all I can think about is him, turned to his left, left cheek squished onto his pillow, eyes shut, not tight shut but gently shut. Him breathing quietly and a soft light from the window falling upon his face. Sleeping. All I can think about is how he is at peace, sleeping without a care in the world. Even if tomorrow he would wake up stressed and agitated. Right now he is asleep, peacefully, and here I am. Staring at the ceiling, begging to god to stop the pain, my hands entwined together, saying to him that I'm tired and that I'm not as strong as He thinks I am. I still believed in Him, because whenever I lost faith, I got a reason right away to not lose it. My dearest was at peace, he was happy without me. And this time I knew. He was not coming back. He was gone. And all my memories of his smile, his hair, his body scent, his hands, the scars on his body, his two vampire-like teeth, his expressions, his cheesy lines, his eyes. His eyelashes, eyebrows, and the way he used to light up after seeing me rushed in. Of how his eyes didn't shine when we met for the last time. How I missed the special way we used to say goodbye. He loved me. He always had. He put in all his efforts just to see me. He did it all. But he didn't love me, not anymore.
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