The remnants feeling that has been lingering around for 10 months is now gone. So she thinks. No more 2am or 4am. No more feeling sugary or upset with the way he talks, the lil details and concerns he shows, the coldness that freezes her heart, the sighs. It's not the same anymore. The ringing in her heart.
So she writes. To tell herself that there's nothing left in that lil shell now. It's a gradual disappearance, time has taken it away before she knew it. The very last bit of it.
She isn't quite sure if that's how she wants it to be. She liked that lil place she reserved for them, despite the greyness it gave her sometimes. There is anticipation for what is coming next; she is awaiting.
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