And then she was gone.
A terrible loss enclosed him like a dark shroud, an utter loneliness surrounded in tortured silence. His ears rung. She was gone. They were done. The shell of numbness he had out up fell apart, a world of hurt hitting him like a bomb exploding in the remnants of his heart.
The first time they'd parted he thought it had hurt. Just what sort of horrible and cruel God decided Love was supposed to hurt so bad? If it was all like this, would he ever let himself fall so hard ever again?
Mot eventually found his bed in a stumbled attempt at walking, sitting down as if his legs could no longer support his body.
He didn't sleep that night. Not a wink. He didn't even try to.
xxxx
xxxAnd then the credits rolled... Their story ended that night. 
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