To Vegas and Back
The more days I let slip past me, the more the pain grew. Eddie wasn’t talking to me, he wouldn’t even acknowledge me. No matter what I did, I wasn’t rewarded with even a single glance. He seemed as still as stone, sitting out there listening to his music. I wanted to storm over there and break a record over his head, just to see if I’d get any response. He’d probably just keep sitting there, still as the grave. It was like he’d had a run-in with Medusa and had turned to stone. The situation hurt my heart. I missed him running after me when I went to the shops. I missed him bugging me when I was reading on the doorstep of my trailer. I missed him setting up a chair for me so we could listen to music together. I missed him knocking on my window late at night. I missed him whisking me off
- Writer
