The glass breaks and so does my heart. Everyone focuses on the broken glass, but what about my heart?
-Author.
|N I C O L A S|
One week without her and all I can think about is how my sheets still smell of her. The maid have washed them twice, but her addicting scent still lingers. Her room, on the other side, feels more like her presence.
After a hectic day or trying to find out about her location and managing the business at the same time, I changed into a vest and grey sweatpants. My eyes wandered around in my room, her presence everywhere yet nowhere. My heart aches at the reminder of her absence in my life, all because of me. Only if I would have took care of the situation a little more maturely, she would have been here, snuggled in my arms.
The mobile phone rang on the side
