I felt like the sky around me was closing me in. Trapping me in some sort of bubble where time stands still and grief would linger on forever.
And I watched the first man I ever kissed walk away from me forever. My heart full of nothing but regret, my brain full of nothing but reassurance that I was making the right choice, and my voice, completely void of any will to call him back.
I guess it’s also not a good thing when you start relating yourself to a late nineteenth century nut bag who shot himself, but hey, you’ve got to relate to something if you ever want to feel relevant.
