Cherita
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When I wake up… Instinctively, I reach for you and find the empty side of the bed. A flood of anguish in a raging sea of perpetual loneliness.
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A sudden captivation: eyes locking overdirty martinis. Two reckless heartsin a sublime tango —like moths to a flame.
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A heart can only break so many times before it numbs itself to pain, joy, love, sorrow. then all it can do is beat — until it doesn’t.
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It’s still my favorite January. The typical grey, cold nothingness hovered until the magic happened. You made the sun shine and flowers bloom — like only you could. Albeit fleeting, I’d do it all again. With you.
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The moment he admits he didn’t mean it and has no clue how it slipped out. He does not, in fact, love you and deeply regrets wrenching your heart until it broke.
Ergo, the Ogre 