Chapter Seven

To be honest I miss it. I miss the steady beat of your heart that would slowly lull me to sleep. I miss the weight of you hand resting on my back when I'm tucked against your side. I miss the way your presence felt in the dark, even when I couldn't feel the comfort of your skin against mine. I could say that I wasn't addicted to you, that you weren't slowly contaminating the very blood that flows through my heart. I could lie, pretend that I never really cared for your particular brand of intoxication. But we both know the truth. You could be crushing my wind pipe with your bare hands, and I'd still smile at the way the sunlight looks against your skin. I can say that the small scorched area  that's hidden in the depths of the shadows of my heart never belonged to you. There are days when I can believe it myself. But  in the still of the night, when the now empty space next to me speaks volumes more than I ever could, that's when I feel it. The weight of your name, permanently etched into my soul.