She cried herself to sleep again, like so many nights before. She had thought about him while she fell asleep, and though she didn't dream about him, she woke with tears in her eyes thinking about him once more. She missed the smell of his cologne. She missed the way he used to hold her and how they used to talk. She missed being able to sense his mood, even when they weren't talking in person. Now if, and when they talked, it was like talking to a piece of wood. She knew it was her fault. It was her fault that he was cold to her now. She knew it was her who had ruined everything.