cause even after three months of your farewell, i could still see you next to me when i woke up in the morning; smell your ironwood perfume lingering in the bedroom; hear your husky velvety voice calling out for my name; and even feel your rosy lips leaving a kiss on my cheek when you bid me goodnight.
to say that i was a mess, was an understatement.
because all those tears and screams when i realised you're never going to come back and hold me dearly in your cradle like the other nights, would never do me any justice
and all those lies you told me about how everything would get better, would never make me feel any better.
and i, i would never be the same.
// zahra.
