It was you.
It was always you.
Your laugh, your smile, your beautiful voice.
When you sang, it was as if the whole world was condensed in that magnificent moment
There was nobody else. Just me and you. You and I.
But with the fading of your song, the song of our love faded.
We grew dark. I grew darker.
Fists were raised, glasses broken and your inspiring voice became the source of pain, hate and fear.
Your voice broke me.
Your words tore through our love – separating it into shards of non-existence. Pieces so small that they could not survive on their own. Like grains of sand on the beach they were blown away and ****** into the abyss of loneliness.
Too small to be fitted back together. Too fragile to mend. Too broken to repair.
My love still exists.
It has healed over time without you.
It gains momentum from the fleeting images of magical moments spent together when your voice was soft and your touch was gentle.
My love transcends you, us.
My love no longer dampens my eyes nor wishes my heart to stop beating.
My love is happy. My love is free.
My love no longer needs your voice to survive. It breathes on its own, it has its own voice.
I hope your love is alive. I hope you are in love. I hope you love yourself.