Her shag rug didn't feel comforting like it had before. The chill of her hardwood floor pinched at her thighs. Nine weeks ago he broke her heart. Thirteen days ago, she realized that the hate and anger subsided, leaving pain and sore spots on her bruised heart. Three hours ago she got all of his old stuff out from under her bed. Thirty seven minutes ago, the CD he had made for her stopped. She sits in silence, pictures, notes, t-shirts, and a small piece of paper that was inside a fortune cookie from their second date scattered around. "You are the guiding star of his existence." Bull. Tears swelled in her brown eyes. She sat, numb, surrounded by pieces of a former life.
What Is Left
October 12, 2009