The light grew dim outside, my cheeks were dry from the tears I hadn't cried, but your voice was on repeat for two years.
The ember on the fire was burning red and we were safe inside, behind the window, between your dark sheets, dressed and sat up. I looked outside, the city, I looked inside, the black forest that is my mind, and between, there you were, with your hopeful eyes, crying of happiness like you did that time after you came.
It all feels so far now, it all feels awkward and alien: your childish jokes, the way you move, the way you comfort me like a cute pet. It doesn't make sense anymore.
This little flame that kept us alive through the toughest of times is losing strength, and as much as I don't want it to die, I don't see another end.
Nothing is forever, but February you said, so February I wish.
It is a complicated recipe, freedom and compromise. I am drowning in this dive, even if I dreamt I learned how to breathe underwater fast enough, maybe I just have to be patient and keep diving into the depths.
I miss you, and I don't want to say it aloud.
You didn't say anything about it, did you?
This is another topic, love.
I was so scared about the blood, but it is yet to come, funny the relationship between things: The truth is out, so is my unborn child.
Good night.