And I am sitting at the window, gazing at the shadows shaped by the bare trees. The streetlights and the fog cast an eerie glow down the road. It reminds me of a scene from a horror movie. In such a movie, unspeakable gore will follow, screams and loss and death; but this is my life. It is quiet, boring, trivial.

I wish I were sunken in thought, creating stories and characters in my mind, but I am not. I am empty. Emotionless. Where did these emotions that used to fuel my creativity go? I don’t know. I don’t miss them, yet I do. Everything used to inspire me; now, nothing does.

My breath hitches when I feel your breath against my skin. I didn’t hear you coming down the stairs. Your nose buries in my hair, and I push myself closer to you, closing my eyes, savouring the closeness. I enjoy these intimate moments; they became so rare. You kiss my hair and leave me on my own again. No words, no further touch.

I used to feel the loss of you, but it became so normal, I can’t remember a time when we loved each other the way lovers do.

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