The virus seemed to be thriving on his misery, relentlessly tearing through his insides.Every day it made its rounds through his body. It started at his fingers, making them itch to touch her until he could almost feel her fleshy lips beneath his thumb, the silky strands of her hair sliding through his fingers. It would then move up to his arms, creating an urge to hold her, an urge that could not be fulfilled.Next it went for his eyes, causing him to see her everywhere, in every little thing. He would see her in the kitchen, making coffee. He would see her cuddled up on the sofa, watching T.V. He had to blink several times before he realised that she wasn’t really there. It would then move to his heart, ruthlessly choking it until it was so heavy and so sore, he could feel the pain of losing her in every beat.And then, finally, just as night fell, it would attack his brain, invoking images of her.Thoughts and memories and dreams. He could not take much more. It was slowly driving him insane. He could not break out of these shackles.
Jacqueline Francis - The Journal
adrian-hawk, heartache, love, romance