1 May 2012
It's hard to watch your life walk away from you, not being able to grasp it in your hand. Your whole world spinning out of orbit, you're no longer their sun.
Your future, your plans fade, from permanent to washable paint. The cinema tickets, the tickets to France, hotels booked, all history now. Cancelling memberships and splitting of goods. The dog is mine, the rest is yours.
There will be no summer this year, not for me. No sunshine, no warm wind through my hair; but summer is now, for him and for her.
End • Opuss № I