emikonara1391

I looked up and he was gone. Lies began seeping into the snapshots of our everyday. He once said that pure love is pure gray; Gray knowing black and white. Now I wonder which color had I been, and had he found another palette? I remember nights ago, awaiting sleep his whispers echoed from the bathroom. He wasn't crazy, I knew. He was in love with the person on the other line. My sobs matched his, as he clung to the phone. The only difference, separated by thin walls, was that I had no audience.