“Why are you distant, it’s a good day after all?” he was genuinely concerned now.
“I don’t know. He chose. He chose these superficial handcuffs instead of my hand … cuffs that bind the mind when the brain bugs overwhelm him. He chose them over me … again. One of these days it’s going to arrest his heart…and it’ll be too late,” she kept her insides from caving inward as she sighed a universal truth that enveloped them both.
“Ahh, to grieve someone who hasn’t yet passed; the hardest of which is love torn under by some unseen force…man-made and meant to destroy.”
“It’s hard not to get angry, ya know? I just want to shake him but I know better,” frustrated, she flicked her cigarette across the lawn.
He nodded, staring out ahead, “All you can do is wait now, Love. It’s okay to get mad over him.”
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