One More

In the end, we all say we want one more. We think we'll be satisfied by that last look, that last kiss, but it never works out that way. We're never satisfied, we don't really want just one more kiss, we want to kiss them forever.
Only a few of us are lucky enough to have that, to have forever with someone you love. I'm not one of those people.
When I saw her, bloody and cold, laying on that silver table I wished for one more. Another glance at her face, another hug, just one last kiss. It's been two years since then and I've since realized I want more than just that. Don't get me wrong, I'd be the happiest man alive if I could hold her one more time. But then the moment would pass, and I'd fall back into depression. Holding her would just be another broken memory of her.
So I spend my days in a routine; wake up, go to work, eat lunch, work, come home, eat dinner, watch tv, go to bed. It's boring. When Tris died, it was like all color got drained from my life and what was once a vibrant array of colors is now just a dull grey.
I want her back.