He's gone ... And now there's the torment of not being able to embrace more ... More look in his eyes.
He's gone to my fears and my insecurities, for my not having been able to really believe in us, for my not being able to grow. Because of my mistakes.
I remain his gestures and his strength side, his hand squeezing mine with a tenderness and determination, his kind eyes, his love of strong and consistent (it was not a man to talk a lot but it shows the affection with small concrete gestures), her shoulders ready to carry the weight of the world without asking anything.
I remain the flashbacks, but sometimes it seems hard to shake their fists, claws, nails in the palms of the hands, but able to grasp only a breath of wind. Cool.
Who am I? I do not know even more. It seems to me that the void within me reaches out to absorb everything and do not meet nothing.
feel bites and wounds. The absence
bigger.
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